I OFT have pale spectres before now Conjured with magical might; They refuse to return any more now To their former dwelling of night. The word that commands their submission I forgot in my terror and fear; My own spirits now seek my perdition, Within their prison-house drear. Dark demons, approach not a finger! Away, nor to torment give birth! Full many a joy still may linger In the roseate light of this earth. I needs must be evermore striving To reach the flower so fair; O, what were the use of my living If I may cherish her ne'er? To my glowing heart fain would I press her, Would clasp her for once to my breast, On her lips and her cheeks once caress her, With sweetest of torments be blest. If once from her mouth I could hear it, Could hear one fond whisper bestow'd, I would follow thee, beckoning Spirit, Yea, e'en to thy darksome abode. The spirits have heard, and draw nigh me, And nod with terrible glee: Sweet love, witn an answer supply me, -- Sweet love. O lovest thou me? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE'S SECRET, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE CA' THE YOWES TO THE KNOWES by ROBERT BURNS STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING by ROBERT FROST THE VOICE OF THE SEA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 50. MY LOVE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |