SWEET love, lay thy hand on my heart, and tell If thou hearest the knocks in that narrow cell? There dwells there a carpenter, cunning is he, And slily he's hewing a coffin for me. He hammers and knocks by day and by night, My slumber already has banish'd outright; Oh, Master Carpenter, prythee make haste, That I some slumber at length may taste. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UNGUARDED GATES by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE DANCERS by KATHERINE HARRIS BRADLEY FESTOONS OF FISHES by ALFRED FRANCIS KREYMBORG SONNET: 53 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THERE IS NO LOVING AFTER DEATH by ASCLEPIADES OF SAMOS THISTLE-DOWN by CLARA DOTY BATES A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 36 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |