WHEN two who love are parted, They talk, as friend to friend, Clasp hands and weep a little, And sigh without an end. We did not weep, my darling, Not sigh "Why must this be ..." The tears, the sighs, the anguish Came laterand to me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BROOK IN THE CITY by ROBERT FROST PUCK AND THE FAIRY, FR. A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE SONNET TO MASTER GABRIELL HARVEY, DOCTOR OF LAWES by EDMUND SPENSER DROUTH WILL BE ENDED by GLADYS NAOMI ARNOLD GREAT BRITTAINES SUNNES-SET by WILLIAM BASSE POST MORTEM by GUSTAVO ADOLFO BECQUER |