ONCE on a happy time you said to me "Give me your soul, O give me, dear, your soul"; And I, who thought not of that other toll, Gave with it too my body utterly. This rhymèd love you left me, my sole fee, Which I must treasure; and the dear-bought scroll I laid away with all my life to be. —To-day you take it from me, my poor rhyme, And lightly ask me, "Why these foolish tears?" You give the world my secret—"it was time. What can it matter after all these years?" Ay. What in truth? Yet herein lies the smart, That grief for you no longer grieves my heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS ON TAGORE by MARIANNE MOORE GOOD-BYE DOROTHY GAYLE: THE ROAD TO BUFFALO by KAREN SWENSON EPITAPH IN BALLADE FORM by FRANCOIS VILLON THE YOUNG GLASS-STAINER by THOMAS HARDY A QUESTION by JOHN MILLINGTON SYNGE AT BETHLEHEM: 3. TO HIS MOTHER by JOHN BANISTER TABB TO MADEMOISELLE by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: ON MY TWENTY-FOURTH YEAR by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |