I MUST confess, when I did part from you, I could not force an artificial dew Upon my cheeks, nor with a gilded phrase Express how many hundred several ways My heart was tortur'd, nor, with arms across, In discontented garbs set forth my loss: Such loud expressions many times do come From lightest hearts: great griefs are always dumb. The shallow rivers roar, the deep are still; Numbers of painted words may show much skill: But little anguish and a cloudy face Is oft put on, to serve both time and place: The blazing wood may to the eye seem great, But 'tis the fire rak'd up that has the heat, And keeps it long. True sorrow 's like to wine: That which is good does never need a sign. My eyes were channels far too small to be Conveyers of such floods of misery: And so pray think; or if you 'd entertain A thought more charitable, suppose some strain Of sad repentance had, not long before, Quite empti'd for my sins that wat'ry store: So shall you him oblige that still will be Your servant to his best ability. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE'S APPARITION AND EVANISHMENT; AN ALLEGORICAL ROMANCE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE CHARIOT by EMILY DICKINSON THE PHANTOM SHIP by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW FOR CHARLIE'S SAKE by JOHN WILLIAMSON PALMER A LETTER TO LADY [MISS] MARGARET-CAVANDISH-HOLLES-HARLEY, WHEN A CHILD by MATTHEW PRIOR |