Treasure Island

Amy Levy

(1861 - 10 September 1889 / London)

A Wall Flower


I lounge in the doorway and languish in vain
While Tom, Dick and Harry are dancing with Jane



My spirit rises to the music's beat;
There is a leaden fiend lurks in my feet!
To move unto your motion, Love, were sweet.

Somewhere, I think, some other where, not here,
In other ages, on another sphere,
I danced with you, and you with me, my dear.

In perfect motion did our bodies sway,
To perfect music that was heard alway;
Woe's me, that am so dull of foot to-day!

To move unto your motion, Love, were sweet;
My spirit rises to the music's beat--
But, ah, the leaden demon in my feet!

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003
Edited: Thursday, November 24, 2011

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read poems about / on: music, flower, love, rose, dance

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (A Wall Flower by Amy Levy )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. The Miracle of the Bees and the Foxgloves, Anne Stevenson
  2. I am the authority, life and rule for my.., Melikhaya Zagagana
  3. Holding Moments, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  4. The Enigma, Anne Stevenson
  5. Temporarily in Oxford, Anne Stevenson
  6. Swifts, Anne Stevenson
  7. Sonnets for Five Seasons, Anne Stevenson
  8. Salter's Gate, Anne Stevenson
  9. A WONDROUS MOMENT., Om Chawla
  10. Innocence and Experience, Anne Stevenson

Poem of the Day

poet Alfred Lord Tennyson

It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]