(TO J. K.) BEFORE thy doors too long of late, O Lyce, I bewail my fate; Not Don's barbarian maids, I trow, Would treat their luckless lovers so; Thou, -- thou alone art obstinate. Hast thou nor eyes nor ears, Ingrate! Hark! how the NORTH WIND shakes thy gate! Look! how the laurels bend with snow Before thy doors! Lay by thy pride, -- nor hesitate, Lest Love and I grow desperate; If prayers, if gifts for naught must go, If naught my frozen pallor show, -- Beware!... I shall not always wait Before thy doors! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE EXPECTED GENERAL RISING OF THE FRENCH NATION IN 1792 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD MY PRETTY ROSE TREE, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE ODE TO FORTUNE by FITZ-GREENE HALLECK A CHRISTMAS CAROL by JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND TRUST IN GOD by NORMAN MACLEOD (1812-1872) TRAVEL by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY AT LAST by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |