GOOD fortune quite a fickle miss is, And in one place will never stay; The hair from off thy face with kisses She strokes, and then she flies away. Misfortune to her heart, however, To clasp thee tightly, ne'er omits; She says she's in a hurry never, Sits down beside thy bed and knits. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HENRY WARD BEECHER by CHARLES HENRY PHELPS THE HOLLY TREE by ROBERT SOUTHEY THE SILENT VOICES by ALFRED TENNYSON THE SAD MOTHER by KATHARINE TYNAN LOVE SONG by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 6. LOVE'S DESPAIR by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) INVULNERABLE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |