The fruit of all the service that I serve Despair doth reap, such hapless hap have I. But though he have no power to make me swerve, Yet, by the fire, for cold I feel I die. In paradise, for hunger still I sterve; And, in the flood, for thirst to death I dry. So Tantalus am I, and in worse pain Amids my help, and helpless doth remain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DAYS TOO SHORT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES SPARKLING AND BRIGHT by CHARLES FENNO HOFFMAN HE MOURNS FOR THE CHANGE THAT HAS COME UPON HIM AND BELOVED by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS DESERT by PATRICK JOHN MCALISTER ANDERSON BALLAD OF THE SABRE CROSS AND 7 by IRVING BACHELLER EMANCIPATION IN THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA, APRIL 16, 1862 by JAMES MADISON BELL TRANSFORMATION by BEATRICE JEAN K. BOROFF A GOLDEN WEDDING: C.B.-E.A.B., 1825-1875 by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER |