We were together, and I longed to tell How drop by silent drop my bosom bled. I took some verses full of you, and read, Waiting for God to work some miracle. They told how love had plunged in burning hell One half my soul, while the other half had fled Upon love's wings to heaven; and you said: "I like the verses; they are written well." If I had knelt confessing "It is you, You are my torment and my rapture too," I should have seen you rise in flushed disdain: "For shame to say so, be it false or true!" And the sharp sword that ran me through and through, On your white bosom too had left a stain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MASK by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING A TERNARIE OF LITTLES, UPON A PIPKIN OF JELLIE by ROBERT HERRICK TO MUSIC [TO BECALM HIS FEVER] by ROBERT HERRICK THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY THE BOTHIE OF TOBER-NA-VUOLICH; A LONG VACATION PASTORAL by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH |