IF floods of tears could cleanse my follies past And smokes of sighs might sacrifice for sin, If groaning cries might salve my fault at last, Or endless moan, for error pardon win, Then would I cry, weep sigh, and ever moan, Mine errors, faults, sins, follies, past and gone. I see my hopes must wither in their bud, I see my favours are no lasting flowers, I see that words will breed no better good Than loss of time and lightening but at hours: Thus when I see, then thus I say, therefore— That favours, hopes, and words can blind no more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FIELD AMBULANCE IN RETREAT; VIA DOLOROSA, VIA SACRA by MAY SINCLAIR THE PROMETHEUS VINCTUS OF AESCHYLUS by AESCHYLUS ON THE WATERFRONT by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE IDLE SINGER: REACTION by QUINTIN BONE NAPOLEON III IN ITALY by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |