The star of my mishap imposed this paining, To spend the April of my years in wailing, That never found my fortune but in waning, With still fresh cares my present woes assailing. Yet her I blame not, though she might have blessed me, But my desire's wings, so high aspiring, Now melted with the sun that hath possessed me; Down do I fall from off my high desiring, And in my fall do cry for mercy speedy. No pitying eye looks back upon my mourning, No help I find when now most favor need I; The ocean of my tears must drown me burning; And this my death shall christen her anew, And give the cruel fair her title due. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CRADLE SONG by PADRAIC COLUM THE COMING AMERICAN by SAM WALTER FOSS THE YANKEE PRIVATEER by ARTHUR HALE THE HOCK-CART, OR HARVEST HOME by ROBERT HERRICK THE ANGEL'S SONG; CAROL by EDMUND HAMILTON SEARS IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 7 by ALFRED TENNYSON FANCIES AT NAVESINK: 7 by WALT WHITMAN SONNET WRITTEN IN THE FALL OF 1914: 3 by GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY |