Her face is full of silent Pain — Forgive my foolish tongue; I with my one desire in life, To praise our love in song. If I should do this thing again, Lord, let Thy vengeance come; Take back Thy precious gift of song, And strike me cold and dumb! If I again forget her love, And utter words of blame, Let my own mother from her grave Rise up, and cry — 'For shame!' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WRITTEN ON A WALL AT WOODSTOCK by ELIZABETH I GREEN SYMPHONY by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER SONGS ON THE VOICES OF BIRDS; SEA-MEWS IN WINTER TIME by JEAN INGELOW A DEAD HARVEST (IN KENSINGTON GARDENS) by ALICE MEYNELL TO MY EXCELLENT LUCASIA, ON OUR FRIENDSHIP. 17TH JULY 1651 by KATHERINE PHILIPS A BED OF FORGET-ME-NOTS by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: DEDICATORY SONNET by EDMUND SPENSER |