Page:Prometheus Bound, and other poems.djvu/125

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INCLUSIONS.




I.

OH, wilt thou have my hand, Dear, to lie along in
thine?
As a little stone in a running stream, it seems to
lie and pine!
Now drop the poor pale hand, Dear, . . unfit to
plight with thine.


II.

Oh, wilt thou have my cheek, Dear, drawn closer to
thine own?
My cheek is white, my cheek is worn, by many a
tear run down.
Now leave a little space, Dear, . . lest it should wet
thine own.


III.

Oh, must thou have my soul, Dear, commingled
with thy soul?—
Red grows the cheek, and warm the hand, . . the
part is in the whole! . .
Nor hands nor cheeks keep separate, when soul is
joined to soul.