'Come to me, O my soul's diviner soul! Come, breathing balm as from celestial spheres, Sweet woman, loved beyond my heart's control! For in thy bosom Love itself uprears A City of Refuge from the ruthless years, A Sanctuary of Rest for heart and brain, A Shrine of Peace, close chancell'd from all pain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPECIAL EFFECTS by JAMES GALVIN THE SEMANTICS OF FLOWERS ON MEMORIAL DAY by BOB HICOK TO GALLANT FRANCE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: TOM MERRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS WAR VERSE (1914) by EZRA POUND OCTAVES: 12 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |