GIRDLES of gold and of gramaraye My lady's bosom clip. And so I tread this aching way, Dead roses in my scrip. Her head was like Aldeboran. (O Christ, that Star is set!) Her voice was a spell Arabian. (But shall I not forget?) | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JOHN MOULDY by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE IN HARDWOOD GROVES by ROBERT FROST BY THE SEA by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 20 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI COMPOSED BY THE SIDE OF GRASMERE by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE SABBATH LAMP by GRACE AGUILAR |