And, well-beloved, is this all, this all? Gone, like a vapour which the potent morn Kills, and in killing glorifies! I call Through the lone night for thee, my dear first-born Soul-fellow! but my heart vibrates in vain. Ah! well I know, and often fancy forms The weather-blown churchyard where thou art lain, -- The churchyard whistling to the frequent storms. But down the valley, by the river side, Huge walnut-trees -- bronze-foliaged, motionless As leaves of metal -- in their shadows hid Warm nests, low music, and true tenderness. But thou, betrothed! art far from me, from me. O heart! be merciful -- I loved him utterly. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 27 by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE HANDSOME KNIGHT by MUHAMMAD AL-MU'TAMID II |