I, MY dear, was born to-day -- So all my jolly comrades say: They bring me music, wreaths, and mirth, And ask to celebrate my birth: Little, alas! my comrades know That I was born to pain and woe; To thy denial, to thy scorn, Better I had ne'er been born: I wish to die, even whilst I say -- 'I, my dear, was born to-day.' I, my dear, was born to-day: Shall I salute the rising ray, Well-spring of all my joy and woe? Clotilda, thou alone dost know. Shall the wreath surround my hair? Or shall the music please my ear? Shall I my comrades' mirth receive, And bless my birth, and wish to live? Then let me see great Venus chase Imperious anger from thy face; Then let me hear thee smiling say -- 'Thou, my dear, wert born to-day.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRELUDES: 1-4 (COMPLETE) by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT THE FIRE OF DRIFTWOOD; DEVEREUX FARM, NEAR MARBLEHEAD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW WORDLY WISE (10) by MOTHER GOOSE THE WASTE PLACES by JAMES STEPHENS THE END OF IT by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR THE POOLS OF PEACE by JOAN CAMPBELL PERSPIRATION: A TRAVELING ECLOGUE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |