To turn my volumes o'er nor find (Sweet unsuspicious friend!) Some vestige of an erring mind To chide or discommend, Believe that all were loved like you With love from blame exempt, Believe that all my griefs were true And all my joys but dreamt. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BURIED LADY by PAUL VALERY WITCHCRAFT BY A PICTURE by JOHN DONNE TO A CHILD DURING SICKNESS by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT SANDALPHON by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW OPPORTUNITY by NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI SONGS OF TRAVEL: 26. IF THIS WERE FAITH by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON TO THE LADY IN THE CHIMSETTE WITH BLACK BUTTONS by NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS |