The little hands too soft and white To have known more laborious hours Than those which die upon a night Of kindling wine and fading flowers; The little hands that I have kissed, Finger by finger, to the tips, And delicately about each wrist Have set a bracelet with my lips; Dear soft white little morbid hands, Mine all one night, with what delight Shall I recall in other lands, Dear hands, that you were mine one night! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I MAY, I MIGHT, I MUST by MARIANNE MOORE TIME THE HANGMAN by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE MOSS ROSE by FRIEDRICH ADOLF KRUMMACHER PHILOMELA by JOHN CROWE RANSOM ON THE SALE BY AUCTION OF KEATS' LOVE LETTERS by OSCAR WILDE MIRANDA'S SUPPER (VIRGINIA, 1866) by ELINOR WYLIE MASSACRE OF THE MACPHERSON by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN SOLUTION OF THE CHARADE IN THE MUSEUM FOR OCTOBER by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |