WHEN 'mid the festive scene we meet To joyous bosoms dear, Though other voices fall more sweet Upon thy listening ear, Yet scorn not thou my ruder tone; Oh! think my heart is all thine own, And love me still. When o'er young Beauty's cheek of rose Thine eye delighted strays, Half proud to watch the blush that glows Beneath thine ardent gaze, Oh! think that but for sorrow's blight My faded cheek had yet been bright, And love me still. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BROODING GRIEF by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE SONNET: 71 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE TO HIS GRACE, GEORGE DUKE OF NORTHUMBERLAND by PHILIP AYRES SONNET: 2 by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE SECOND BROTHER; ACT 1, SCENE 2 by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |