ONE o'clock! and still I ponder On the joys of yesterday; Never lover weaker, fonder, Sighed the weary hours away. Ill-content with saying, singing, All its worship o'er and o'er; Still the heart would fain be clinging Round its idol, evermore! Half in pleasure, half in sorrow, Thinking o'er each fervent kiss, Still I vainly strive to borrow From the Past its buried bliss. Now I hear her fondly sighing, As when late we sat alone, While the dancer's feet were flying, -- Ah! the sigh is but my own! "Thus my darling I would smother!" In my dreaming oft I say. Foolish lips, that kiss each other! Hers, alas! are far away. On my cheek I feel the billow Of her glowing bosom beat, -- Ah! 't is but the pulseless pillow! Shall I curse or bless the cheat? Dreaming, waking, I am weary. Would that morning might appear! Oh, 't is dreary, very dreary, Thus to love, and not be near! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TEACHER by LESLIE PINCKNEY HILL THE LEADEN-EYED by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY SANTA FILOMENA by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE RELIEF OF LUCKNOW (SEPTEMBER 25, 1857) by ROBERT TRAILL SPENCE LOWELL BUCH DER LIEDER by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES STOCK AND VERMONT PUNKINS by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY |