Thine is my all, how little when 'tis told Beside thy gold! Thine the first peace, and mine the livelong strife; Thine the clear dawn, and mine the night of life; Thine the unstained belief, Darkened in grief. Scarce even a flower but thine its beauty and name, Dimmed, yet the same; Never in twilight comes the moon to me, Stealing thro' those far woods, but tells of thee, Falls, dear, on my wild heart, And takes thy part. Thou art the child, and I -- how steeped in age! A blotted page From that clear, little book life's taken away: How could I read it, dear, so dark the day? Be it all memory 'Twixt thee and me! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OF THE MEAN AND SURE ESTATE by THOMAS WYATT NIGHTFALL IN DORDRECHT by EUGENE FIELD AN APPEAL TO CATS IN THE BUSINESS OF LOVE; SONG by THOMAS FLATMAN ASPECTA MEDUSA by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE VAGABONDS by JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE BEGGAR TO BEGGAR CRIED by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS DEATH AT DAYBREAK by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH THE OPTIMIST AND THE PESSIMIST; A DIALOGUE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |