Oh, I have tried to laugh the pain away, Let new flames brush my love-springs like a feather. But the old fever seizes me to-day, As sickness grips a soul in wretched weather. I have given up myself to every urge, With not a care of precious powers spent, Have bared my body to the strangest scourge, To soothe and deaden my heart's unhealing rent. But you have torn a nerve out of my frame, A gut that no physician can replace, And reft my life of happiness and aim. Oh what new purpose shall I now embrace? What substance hold, what lovely form pursue, When my thought burns through everything to you? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN TIMES SIX [ - GIVING IN MARRIAGE] by JEAN INGELOW THE BEAN-STALK by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY LOVE AND TIME by WALTER RALEIGH HE REMEMBERS FORGOTTEN BEAUTY by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS VILLANELLE, WITH STEVENSON'S ASSISTANCE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS BODY AND SOUL by AWHAD AD-DIN 'ALI IBN VAHID MUHAMMAD KHAVARANI AFTER-SIGHT by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |