HE walks like one enchanted, Whose soul is held in thrall, By some sweet presence haunted Who passed unseen by all. He speaks as half-forgetting The hearers that are by, He sighs as though regretting Some dear and soft reply. It is a lover's rapture, Naught doth he see or hear, His heart is held in capture Unto some mistress dear. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JONAS KEENE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS MAHMOUD by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT TO QUILCA; A COUNTRY HOUSE IN NO GOOD REPAIR by JONATHAN SWIFT GIVE HIM HIS DUE by LEVI BISHOP THE DAWN OF EVENING by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |