What good is there, Ah me, what good in Love? Since, even if you love me, we must part; And since for either, and you cared enough, There's but division and a broken heart? And yet, God knows, to hear you say: My Dear! I would lie down and stretch me on the bier. And yet would I, to hear you say: My own! With mine own hands drag down the burial stone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STREET LANTERNS by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE SNOWFLAKES by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE CROPPY BOY: (A BALLAD OF '98) by WILLIAM B. MCBURNEY ODE: INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH PANEGYRIC by ABU BAKR MUHUMMAD DEMON by ALEXANDER (ALEKSANDR) ALEXANDROVICH BLOK |