Within my breast I never thought it gain Of gentle mind the freedom for to lose; Nor in my heart sank never such disdain To be a forger, faults for to disclose; Nor I cannot endure the truth to gloss, To set a gloss upon an earnest pain; Nor I am not in number one of those That list to blow retreat to every train. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARY MAGDALENE by GEORGE HERBERT THE CENTAURS by JAMES STEPHENS THE BALLAD OF DEAD LADIES by FRANCOIS VILLON THE FOLLY OF BEING COMFORTED by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE GLASSES AND THE BIBLE by ST. CLAIR ADAMS IMAGES: 4 by RICHARD ALDINGTON |