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Coventry Patmore - Venus And Death
Work rating: Low

With fetters gold her captivated feet
              Lay, sunny sweet;
              In that palm was the poppy, Sleep; in this
              The apple, Bliss;
              Against the mild side of his Spouse and Mother
              One small God throve, and in`t, meseem`d, another.
              By these a Death-in-Life did foully breathe
              Out of a face that was one grate of teeth.
              Lift, O kind Angels, lift her eyelids loth,
               Lest he devour her and her Godlets both!
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