Anna, thy charms my bosom fire, And waste my soul with care; But ah! how bootless to admire, When fated to despair! Yet in thy presence, lovely Fair, To hope may be forgiven; For sure 'twere impious to despair So much in sight of heaven. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMEDAY BOOK: JOHN CAMPBELL AND CARL EATON by EDGAR LEE MASTERS EASTER HYMN by GEORGE SANTAYANA MANNERLY MARGERY, MILK AND ALE by JOHN SKELTON RIDDLE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 39 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT SONNET: 3 by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES TO THE PRESIDENT OF MAGDALEN COLLEGE, OXFORD by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES |