BENEATH blue skies of her own country, she Fell languishing and withering, Faded at last; and her young shade, maybe, Already touched me with its wing. Between us is a line impassable. In vain I tried to wake my sense. I heard indifferent lips of her death tell; I listened with indifference. So this is she I loved with soul afire, With spirit in so dolorous stress, With such a sweet and languishing desire, Such suffering, such foolishness. Where are love's torments? In my heart, alack, For that poor shadow confident, For sweet remembered days that come not back, I find no tear and no lament. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINCOLN by SILAS WEIR MITCHELL THE FIRST FIRE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD RENUNCIATION by MATHILDE BLIND THE WATERS OF LETHE by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE WHICH SHALL I CHOOSE? by DELLE BLOSS DAVENPORT ODE TO AMERICA by MARY P. DENNY |