If he should lie a-dying
I AM not willing you should go
Into the earth, where Helen went;
She is awake by now, I know.
Where Cleopatra’s anklets rust
You will not lie with my consent;
And Sappho is a roving dust;
Cressid could love again; Dido,
Rotted in state, is restless still;
You leave me much against my will.
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I’m doing some research in regards to editing this poem. I have been pouring through books, articles, and everything else tying to find out who “S.M.” might be. I am not cheating on my homework, just doing some research. If anyone has any suggestions or any words of wisdom, please let me know.