The thoughts are broken in my memory, Thou lovely Joy, whene'er I see thy face; When thou art near me, Love fills up the space, Often repeating, "If death irk thee, fly." My face shows my heart's colour, verily, Which, fainting, seeks for any leaning-place; Till, in the drunken terror of disgrace, The very stones seem to be shrieking, "Die!" It were a grievous sin, if one should not Strive then to comfort my bewildered mind (Though merely with a simple pitying) For the great anguish which thy scorn has wrought In the dead sight o' the eyes grown nearly blind, Which look for death as for a blessed thing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BIRTHDAY SONG by SIDNEY LANIER UNGRATEFULNESS by GEORGE HERBERT THE CHILD ALONE: 6. BLOCK CITY by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 67 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE WIRES by ALEXANDER ANDERSON THE BUS by MABEL WARREN ARNOLD |