'IF I were dead, you'd sometimes say, Poor Child!' The dear lips quiver'd as they spake, And the tears brake From eyes which, not to grieve me, brightly smiled. Poor Child, poor Child! I seem to hear your laugh, your talk, your song. It is not true that Love will do no wrong. Poor Child! And did you think, when you so cried and smiled, How I, in lonely nights, should lie awake, And of those words your full avengers make? Poor Child, poor Child! And now, unless it be That sweet amends thrice told are come to thee, O God, have Thou no mercy upon me! Poor Child! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OVERLOOKING THE RIVER STOUR by THOMAS HARDY SONNET: 13. TO MR. H. LAWES, ON HIS AIRS by JOHN MILTON JOHN UNDERHILL by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER AGAMEMNON: THE PURPLE CARPER by AESCHYLUS SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 26. BEYOND by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) YELLOW CLOVER by KATHARINE LEE BATES |