What meanwhile of a child of her, of me, -- Of womb of woman and of loins of man? -- A child of such a stock and born to be Nurtured in such convulsions? Did I ban From out my griefs a child? And did I save Some unborn creature, third in that mad line, Some lovely woman, from an insane grave, Some blue-eyed daughter that had still been mine? I did: we had no child, but yet from this, From this and dread lest on some morrow she Should witness nature's old fecundity, Stole morrow by morrow something from her kiss: Probe life, and know that this and such a dread Puts a black pall upon a marriage-bed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NURSE'S SONG, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE HEMLOCK by EMILY DICKINSON THE HAPPY DAYS WHEN I WER YOUNG by WILLIAM BARNES SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 37 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ASOLANDO: FLUTE-MUSIC, WITH AN ACCOMPANIMENT by ROBERT BROWNING |