Ah! he is fled! And while these here their @3mists@1 and @3shadows@1 hatch, My glorious head Doth on those hills of myrrh and incense watch. Haste, haste my dear, The soldiers here Cast in their lots again, That seamless coat The Jews touched not, These dare divide and stain. 2 O get thee wings! Or if as yet (until these clouds depart, And the day springs) Thou think'st it good to tarry where thou art, Write in thy books My ravished looks, Slain flock, and pillaged fleeces, And haste thee so As a young roe Upon the mounts of spices. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HITS AND RUNS by CARL SANDBURG PLACES: 4. EVENING (NAHANT) by SARA TEASDALE THE HEART OF THE BRUCE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN RECESSIONAL by RUDYARD KIPLING DRESSING THE BRIDE (A FRAGMENT) by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PLAYFORD; A DESCRIPTIVE FRAGMENT by BERNARD BARTON THE IMPROVISATORE: THE INDUCTION TO THE FIRST FYTTE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE HISTORY OF ARCADIUS AND SEPHA: BOOK 2 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH EPIGRAM ON THE COUNTESS OF SOMERSET'S PICTURE by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |