She is coming, my own, my sweet;
Were it ever so airy a tread,
My heart would hear and beat,
Were it earth in an earthy bed,
My dust would hear her and beat,
Had I lain for a century dead,
Would start and tremble under her feet,
And blossom in purple and red.
She Is Coming, My Own, My Sweet
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Poem topics: heart, purple, red, earth, sweet, start, century, dust, hear, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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