If she but knew that I am weeping Still for her sake, That love and sorrow grow with keeping Till they must break, My heart that breaking will adore her, Be hers and die; If she might hear me once implore her, Would she not sigh? If she but knew that it would save me Her voice to hear, Saying she pitied me, forgave me, Must she forbear? If she were told that I was dying, Would she be dumb? Could she content herself with sighing? Would she not come? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO LUCASTA ON GOING TO THE WARS FOR THE FOURTH TIME by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES WHEN HE WOULD HAVE HIS VERSES READ by ROBERT HERRICK AN ODE TO HIMSELF by BEN JONSON RESIGNATION by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER ON NANUS COUNTED ON AN ANT by DECIMUS MAGNUS AUSONIUS UNPERFECTED by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 114. A LATER DEDICATION by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |