"WHEREFORE starts my bosom's lord? Why this anguish in thine eye? Oh, it seems as thy heart's chord Had broken with that sigh! "Rest thee, my dear lord, I pray, Rest thee on my bosom now! And let me wipe the dews away, Are gathering on thy brow. "There, again! that fevered start! What, love! husband! is thy pain? There is a sorrow in thy heart, A weight upon thy brain! "Nay, nay, that sickly smile can ne'er Deceive affection's searching eye; 'Tis a wife's duty, love, to share Her husband's agony. "Since the dawn began to peep, Have I lain with stifled breath; Heard thee moaning in thy sleep, As thou wert at grips with death. "Oh, what joy it was to see My gentle lord once more awake! Tell me, what is amiss with thee? Speak, or my heart will break!" "Mary, thou angel of my life, Thou ever good and kind; 'Tis not, believe me, my dear wife, The anguish of the mind! "It is not in my bosom, dear, No, nor in my brain, in sooth; But, Mary, oh, I feel it here, Here in my wisdom tooth! "Then give, -- oh, first, best antidote, -- Sweet partner of my bed! Give me thy flannel petticoat To wrap around my head!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRAYER OF A SOLDIER IN FRANCE by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER CATAWBA WINE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW IN FLANDERS FIELDS by JOHN MCCRAE SEA UNICORNS AND LAND UNICORNS by MARIANNE MOORE BY BLUE ONTARIO'S SHORE by WALT WHITMAN THE PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION; A POEM. ENLARGED VERSION: BOOK 3 by MARK AKENSIDE THE BELLS AT MIDNIGHT by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |