How many a thing which we cast to the ground, When others pick it up becomes a gem! We grasp at all the wealth it is to them; And by reflected light its worth is found. Yet for us still 'tis nothing! and that zeal Of false appreciation quickly fades. This truth is little known to human shades, How rare from their own instinct 'tis to feel! They waste the soul with spurious desire, That is not the ripe flame upon the bough. We two have taken up a lifeless vow To rob a living passion: dust for fire! Madam is grave, and eyes the clock that tells Approaching midnight. We have struck despair Into two hearts. O, look we like a pair Who for fresh nuptials joyfully yield all else? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINES INSCRIBED UPON A CUP FORMED FROM A SKULL by GEORGE GORDON BYRON A LOVE LETTER by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI: 3. FULL MOON by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER CALLER HERRIN' by CAROLINA OLIPHANT NAIRNE PICCIOLA by ROBERT HENRY NEWELL THE WHITE BIRDS by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |