All thro' the livelong night I lay awake Watering my couch with tears of heaviness. None stood beside me in my sore distress; -- Then cried I to my heart: If thou wilt, break, But be thou still; no moaning will I make, Nor ask man's help, nor kneel that he may bless. So I kept silence in my haughtiness, Till lo! the fire was kindled, and I spake Saying: Oh that I had wings like to a dove, Then would I flee away and be at rest: I would not pray for friends, or hope, or love, But still the weary throbbing of my breast; And, gazing on the changeless heavens above, Witness that such a quietness is best. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 35 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING NEUTRALITY LOATHSOME by ROBERT HERRICK SPRING'S WELCOME, FR. ALEXANDER AND CAMPASPE by JOHN LYLY STREET CORNER COLLEGE by KENNETH PATCHEN URANIA; THE WOMAN IN THE MOON: THIS STORY MORALIZED by WILLIAM BASSE |