I SKIMMED the strings; I sang quite low; I hoped she would not come or know That the house next door was the one now dittied, Not hers, as when I had played unpitied; -- Next door, where dwelt a heart fresh stirred, My new Love, of good will to me, Unlike my old Love chill to me, Who had not cared for my notes when heard: Yet that old Love came To the other's name As hers were the claim; Yea, the old Love came. My viol sank mute, my tongue stood still, I tried to sing on, but vain my will: I prayed she would guess of the later, and leave me; She stayed, as though, were she slain by the smart, She would bear love's burn for a newer heart. The tense-drawn moment wrought to bereave me Of voice, and I turned in a dumb despair At her finding I'd come to another there. Sick I withdrew At love's grim hue Ere my last Love knew; Sick I withdrew. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO CERTAIN JOURNEYMEN by CARL SANDBURG LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM by THOMAS MOORE CAROLINA [JANUARY, 1865] by HENRY TIMROD THE STEAM-ENGINE: CANTO 10. THE DEATH OF HUSKISSON by T. BAKER HON. MR. SUCKLETHUMBKIN'S STORY: THE EXECUTION; A SPORTING ANECDOTE by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |