Why am I haunted by your hands? O subtle and mesmeric palms, That had the power of what strange calms, Only my spirit understands; And you, faint fingers thrilling through With feverish ecstasies subdued Into the quiet of your mood, Why is it that I dream of you? Exiled and outcast, and resigned To be forgotten, to forget, Why is it there should one regret With one desire possess my mind That, in these unfamiliar lands, After the exile and the change, You might but soothe me with the strange Familiar comfort of your hands! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT THE MERMAID TAVERN (APRIL 10, 1613) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE FACE ON THE [BAR-ROOM] FLOOR by HUGH ANTOINE D'ARCY FATHER LAND AND MOTHER TONGUE by SAMUEL LOVER PRAYER by EVGENY ABRAMOVICH BARATYNSKY THE OLD VAGABOND by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER DREAM by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH ASOLANDO: POETICS by ROBERT BROWNING THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: THE PEDLER by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |