Explore "Silverpoints" by John Gray on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Not pale, as one in sleep or holier death, / Nor illcontent the lady seems, nor loth / To lie in shadow of shrill river growth, / So steadfast are the river's arms beneath.
Pale petals follow her in very faith, / Unmixed with pleasure or regret, and both / Her maidly hands look up, in noble sloth / To take the blossoms of her scattered wreath.