You never told me, never, yet I know You hold a sadness in disguise, unseen Behind the days and years that intervene Since you renounced ambition long ago. Whence comes the tender love that you bestow To feed our loves? Behind your self serene There burns a golden passion, -- how you screen With radiant life the flame you must forego! Then you assume our love is ample meed, Atonement, -- oh, I wonder any deed Of ours can ease your spirit's lassitude, Or lift your lonely heart! Our stars elude Your sun that made them bright -- your solitude. Deprived, no boon avails to fill your need. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE WOMAN by HAYDEN CARRUTH MACDONALD'S RAID - A.D. 1780 by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE BINSEY POPLARS (FELLED 1879) by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS MOTHER O' MINE by RUDYARD KIPLING DREAM-LOVE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE DALLIANCE OF THE EAGLES by WALT WHITMAN |