I WHY, Dearest, should'st thou weep, when I relate The story of my woe? Let not the swarthy mists of my black Fate, O'er cast thy beauty so, For each rich pearl lost on that score, Adds to mischance, and wounds your servant more. II Quench not those stars, that to my bliss should guide, Oh, spare that precious tear! Nor let those drops unto a deluge tide, To drown your beauty there. That cloud of sorrow makes it night, You lose your lustre, but the world its light. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 9. VILLA SEBELLONI, BELLAGGIO by SARA TEASDALE EPITAPH FOR A CONDEMNED BOOK by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE ALFARABI; THE WORLD-MAKER. A RHAPSODICAL FRAGMENT by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES SONNET: MAN VERSUS ASCETIC. 2 by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON ENOUGH by OTTO JULIUS BIERBAUM |