You ask by what I was first bound And made her slave. Don't change the name. For it were nobler, if it were a shame, Than king, if her I'd never found. Those lines that frame her mouth would do. What, never noticed them? Ah well Perhaps 'tis best; for who can tell I might be asking now and you. . . . O, don't protest! You think 'twas odd? What saw I in the lines? More prayer Than such young little lips could bear, Perhaps -- enough, you laugh and nod. That all? Ah no they tell of care. A baby brother carried long On weary arms, lulled by a song So sweet it left its imprint there. A father coming home at night From work, kissed at the open door By two glad lips. Shall I say more? Why two lines bound me round so tight. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GO SLEEP, MA HONEY by EDWARD D. BARKER AFTER APPLE PICKING by ROBERT FROST INSOMNIA by EDITH MATILDA THOMAS WRITTEN IN MARCH by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE STORM OF WAR by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD NAMES OF ROMANCE by BERTON BRALEY THE DEAD BRONCHO-BUSTER by BERTON BRALEY |