They told me of her history -- her love Was a neglected flame, which had consumed The vase wherein it kindled. O how fraught With bitterness is unrequited love! To know that we have cast life's hope away On a vain shadow! Hers was a gentle passion, quiet, deep, As a woman's love should be, All tenderness and silence, only known By the soft meaning of a downcast eye, Which almost fears to look its timid thoughts; A sigh, scarce heard; a blush, scarce visible, Alone may give it utterance. -- Love is A beautiful feeling in a woman's heart, When felt, as only woman love can feel! Pure, as the snow-fall, when its latest shower Sinks on spring-flowers; deep, as a cave-locked fountain; And changeless as the cypress's green leaves; And like them, sad! She nourished Fond hopes and sweet anxieties, and fed A passion unconfessed, till he she loved Was wedded to another. -- Then she grew Moody and melancholy; one alone Had power to soothe her in her wanderings, Her gentle sister; -- But that sister died, And the unhappy girl was left alone, A maniac . -- She would wander far, and shunned Her own accustomed dwelling; and her haunt Was that dead sister's grave: and that to her Was as a home. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CUMBERLAND [MARCH 8, 1862] by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: DEDICATORY SONNET by EDMUND SPENSER THE APPROACH OF LOVE by LOUIS ARAGON THE LIGHT OF ASIA by EDWIN ARNOLD GREENES FUNERALLS: SONNET 1 by RICHARD BARNFIELD RUSTIC WREATH by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN NAENIAE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON ON THE BEACH; LINES BY A PRIVATE TUTOR by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY |