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Strange Power, I know not what thou art,
Murderer or mistress of my heart.
I know I'd rather meet the blow
Of my most unrelenting foe
Than live---as now I live---to be
Slain twenty times a day by thee.
Yet, when I would command thee hence,
Thou mockest at the vain pretence,
Murmuring in mine ear a song
Once loved, alas! forgotten long;
And on my brow I feel a kiss
That I would rather die than miss.
Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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Read poems about / on: kiss, power, song, memory, heart
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by
Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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Karina Kfuri
(3/29/2008 8:21:00 PM) |
'And on my brow I feel a kiss, that I would rather die than miss.' -Splendid Memory!
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Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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