Author Aaron Hill When, from her breast, chaste Arria dragg'd the sword, And, faintly, reach'd it her expecting lord; My wound, said she, but wastes unvalu'd breath, 'Tis thine, dear Paetus , gives the sting to death. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments