WHEN I hold a budding pleasure In my heart, can I diffuse it? No; you want the musk full-measure, Not the bud, -- so you refuse it. When I hold an ebbing sorrow, Can I share the balm with you? No; you want no lessening morrow, But meridian's deepest hue. Blossom of my joy completest, Zenith of my sorrow's hour, Yours. So I may keep the sweetest: Buds and lees -- ambrosial power. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE COMPLAINT OF CHAUCER TO HIS EMPTY PURSE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER EARLY MORN by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE ENKINDLED SPRING by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE CLANCY OF THE MOUNTED POLICE by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE THE PASSERS BY by AL-RADI BILLAH SNOW OR SNOWDROPS? by MATHILDE BLIND |