Piteous my rhyme is What while I muse of love and pain, Of love misspent, of love in vain, Of love that is not loved again: And is this all then? As long as time is, Love loveth. Time is but a span, The dalliance space of dying man: And is this all immortals can? The gain were small then. Love loves for ever, And finds a sort of joy in pain, And gives with nought to take again, And loves too well to end in vain: Is the gain small then? Love laughs at "never", Outlives our life, exceeds the span Appointed to mere mortal man: All which love is and does and can Is all in all then. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CLARE'S DRAGOONS by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS ON BUTLER'S MONUMENT [IN WESTMINSTER] by SAMUEL WESLEY HELLENS RAPE; OR A LIGHT LANTHORNE FOR LIGHT LADIES by RICHARD BARNFIELD BAB-LOCK-HYTHE by LAURENCE BINYON THE SONG OF THE SAVOYARDS by HENRY AMES BLOOD WHOM EARTH HAS TAUGHT: RENEWALS by MARGARET PERKINS BRIGGS BETSY LEE by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |