Lo! what am I, my heart, that I should dare To love her who will never love again: I, standing out here in the wind and rain, With feet unsandalled, and uncovered hair, Singing sad words to a still sadder air, Who know not even if my song's refrain — "Of sorrow, sorrow! loved, oh, loved in vain!" — May reach her where she sits and hath no care. But I will sing in every man's despite; Yea, too, and love, and sing of love until My music mixes with her dreams at night; That when Death says to me, "Lie down, be still!" She, pausing for my voice, and listening long, May know its silence sadder than its song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMPRESSION by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE UPON THE SAYING THAT MY VERSES WERE MADE BY ANOTHER by ANNE KILLIGREW THE SLEEPING BEAUTY by SAMUEL ROGERS BROWN OF OSSAWATOMIE [DECEMBER 2, 1859] by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER SUMMER BY THE LAKESIDE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER CHRISTMASSE DAY by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |