THERE'S not a look, a word of thine My soul hath e'er forgot; Thou ne'er hast bid a ringlet shine, Nor given thy locks one graceful twine Which I remember not! There never yet a murmur fell From that beguiling tongue, Which did not, with a lingering spell, Upon my charmed senses dwell, Like something heaven had sung! Ah! that I could, at once, forget All, all that haunts me so -- And yet, thou witching girl! -- and yet, To die were sweeter, than to let The loved remembrance go! No; if this slighted heart must see Its faithful pulse decay, Oh! let it die, remembering thee, And, like the burnt aroma, be Consumed in sweets away! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BIRTHDAY SONG by SIDNEY LANIER ASPIRATIONS OF A COUNTRY LAD by GEORGE SANTAYANA SONG, FR. ERNEST MALTRAVERS by EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON BULWER-LYTTON A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 26 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN TO JOHN DONNE (2) by BEN JONSON |