How can I rid me Of what is not mine -- This self that was youth's, This song swift and fine That wraps me with fire, And yet is not mine? Song to be seemly For her that is I, Is song low with sleep To be hummed in a sigh, As I weave cool reason Out of sounds that go by. And who would be wanting Song not her own, Though it warms with warmth The sun has not known, When she might be thinking, And cold and alone? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BILLY IN THE DARBIES, FR. BILLY BUDD by HERMAN MELVILLE MURMURINGS IN A FIELD HOSPITAL by CARL SANDBURG ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 52 by PHILIP SIDNEY ANIMAL TRANQUILITY AND DECAY; A SKETCH by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 18. HARD TO BE PLEASED by PHILIP AYRES ON THE THRESHOLD by ASTLEY H. BALDWIN |