The Spring, the lilac-scented night; The music, the moon, and the flowing fountain Beside this bench. Your whispered plight, Your silken hair, your patrician neck. Your winsome smile, and eyes that tell Of pleasure-mingled pain. The dancing speck Of moonbeam on your lips ... your lips— All, but most of all, your lips, conspire To flame the embers of desire. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO SPRING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ALEXANDER THROCKMORTON by EDGAR LEE MASTERS AT THE BRITISH MUSEUM by RICHARD ALDINGTON HOW MY HEART SINKS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE CHANT OF THE VULTURES by EDWIN MARKHAM |