Whate'er the cost to me, with this farewell, I shall not see thee, speak to thee again. If some on Earth must feel the pangs of Hell, Mine only be it who have earned my pain. No matter if my life be blank and dead, Bankrupt of pleasure: it is better so Than risk dishonour on a once loved head, Than link all loved ones with my own sole woe. I have no claim to bring grief's shade on these, To mix their pure life's waters with my wine, To vex the dead, dear dead, in their new peace With knowledge of my sin and great decline. For these I leave thee, and, though life be rent With the rude fight, think not I shall relent. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY LETTERS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM TRAVELLING GIPSIES by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE GRISELDA: CHAPTER 5 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT FIFTY YEARS SPENT by MAXWELL STRUTHERS BURT SECOND BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 19 by THOMAS CAMPION TO HILDA OF HER ROSES by GRACE HAZARD CONKLING |