Locks of brown, still bind your captive
In the circle of her face!
I, beloved sinuous tresses,
Naught possess that's worth your grace-
...
Read full text
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
" If she finds a heap of ashes Say, he perished in her fire" What a stunning end. Great poem.