I WOULD not, could I, make thy life as mine; Only I would, if such a thing might be, Thou shouldst not, love, forget me utterly; Yea, when the sultry stars of summer shine On dreaming woods, where nightingales repine, I would that at such times should come to thee Some thought not quite unmix'd with pain, of me, -- Some little sorrow for a soul's decline. Yea, too, I would that through thy brightest times, Like the sweet burden of remember'd rhymes, That gentle sadness should be with thee, dear; And when the gates of sleep are on thee shut, I would not, even then, it should be mute, But murmur, shell-like, at thy spirit's ear. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LEONARDO'S 'MONNA LISA' by EDWARD DOWDEN THE INVITATION (TO TOM HUGHES) by CHARLES KINGSLEY A DEDICATION by EDMUND JOHN ARMSTRONG TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. AFTER CIVILISATION (2) by EDWARD CARPENTER CARMINA: 31 by GAIUS VALERIUS CATULLUS THE PICTURE BOOK QUEEN by NATHALIA CRANE THE CALCITE VEIN - A TALE OF COBALT by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND |