MY dear! When I leave you I always drop a bit of me -- A holy glove or sainted shoe -- Your wistful corse I leave it to, For all your soul has followed me -- How could I have the stony heart So to abandon you? My dear! When you leave me You drop no glove, no sainted shoe; And yet you know what humans be -- Mere blocks of dull monstrosity! My spirit cannot follow you, When you're away, with all its heart As yours can follow me. My dear! Since we must leave (One sorry day) I you, you me; I'll learn your wistful way to grieve; Then through the ages we'll retrieve Each other's scent and company; And longing shall not pull my heart -- As now you pull my sleeve! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FAREWELL TO HIS WIFE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE BLINDED BIRD by THOMAS HARDY THE NOBLEMAN AND THE PENSIONER by GOTTLIEB KONRAD PFEFFEL TO HELEN (2) by EDGAR ALLAN POE HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY: 6. YEUX GLAUQUES by EZRA POUND HALSTED STREET CAR by CARL SANDBURG |