TO-NIGHT a gilded moth took wing,
And round-a-round yon wax-light flew;
And, while his flight did her enring,
He nearer to the dazzler drew.
'So fair art thou,' he cried, 'to view,
I'd die upon thy lips to feed;'
And so must snatch a kiss and rue-
Ah, he was murder'd for the deed.
The Moth
Joseph Skipsey
(1)
Poem topics: kiss, light, murder, night, wing, flight, feed, view, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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