Plain ye, mine eyes. Accompany my heart For, by your fault, lo, here is death at hand. Ye brought him first into this bitter band And of his harm as yet ye felt no part. But now ye shall. Lo, here begins your smart. Wet shall ye be - ye shall it not withstand - With weeping tears that shall make dim your sight; And misty clouds shall hang still in your light. Blame but yourselves that kindled have this brand With such desire to strain that past your might. But since by you the heart hath caught his harm, His flamed heat shall sometime make ye warm. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY HUT; AFTER TRAN QUANG KHAI by HAYDEN CARRUTH ON SEEING BLENHEIM CASTLE by LUCY AIKEN TO MY FRIENDS, WHO RIDICULED A TENDER LEAVE-TAKING by MATTHEW ARNOLD THURSDAY IN HOLY WEEK by JOSEPH BEAUMONT THE TRUCE by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE A LADY OF PARIS BORDONE by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |