The fancy, which that I have served long, That hath alway been enemy to mine ease, Seemed of late to rue upon my wrong And bad me fly the cause of my misease. And I forthwith did prease out of the throng, That thought by flight my painful heart to please Some other way, till I saw faith more strong. And to myself I said: "Alas, those days In vain were spent, to run the race so long." And with that thought I met my guide, that plain Out of the way wherein I wandered wrong Brought me amids the hills in base Bullayn, Where I am now, as restless to remain, Against my will, full pleased with my pain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WINTER NIGHT SONG by SARA TEASDALE THE BOBOLINKS by CHRISTOPHER PEARSE CRANCH THE PATH-FLOWER by OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN ODE TO A NIGHTINGALE by JOHN KEATS THE DEATH OF THE OLD YEAR by ALFRED TENNYSON SONNET by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE FUGITIVE by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA BRUCE: HOW AYMER DE VALENCE, AND JOHN OF LORN CHASED THE BRUCE ... by JOHN BARBOUR |