Oh for my love, my only love, Oh for my lost love far away! -- Oh that the grass were green above Her head or mine this weary day: -- The grass green in the morning grey. She lies down in a foreign land And in a foreign land doth rise. I cannot hold her by the hand; I cannot read her speaking eyes That turned mere spoken words to lies. This is the bough she leaned upon And watched the rose deep western sky, For the last sun rays almost gone: I did not hear the wind pass by, Nor stream; I only heard her sigh. I saw the tears that did not fall, I saw the blush upon her cheek, The trembling hand so white and small: She did not speak, I could not speak: -- Oh that strong love should make us weak. Therefore we parted as we met, She on her way, and I on mine. I think her tender heart was set On holier things and more Divine: -- We parted thus and gave no sign. Oh that the grass were green above Her head or mine; so I could pray In certain faith for her my love, Unchanging, all the night and day: Most near altho' most far away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: TOM MERRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SEA-BIRDS by ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN TO MY MYRTLE [MIRTLE] by WILLIAM BLAKE ALONE (2) by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE TROUBLE IN DE KITCHEN by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE SANDPIPER by CELIA LEIGHTON THAXTER FAREWELL, UNKIST by THOMAS WYATT |