THE waters of my life were sweet, Before that bolt of sorrow fell; But now, though fainting with the heat, I dare not drink the bitter well. My God! shall Sin across the heart Sweep like a wind that leaves no trace But Grief inflict a rankling smart No after blessing can efface? I see the tired mechanic take His evening rest beside his door, And gentlier, for their father's sake, His children tread the happy floor: The kitchen teems with cheering smells With clash of cups and clink of knives, And all the household picture tells Of humble yet contented lives. Then in my heart the serpents hiss: What right have these, who scarcely know The perfect sweetness of their bliss, To flaunt it thus before my woe? Like bread, Love's portion they divide, Like water drink his precious wine, When the least crumb they cast aside Were manna for these lips of mine. I see the friend of other days Lead home his flushed and silent bride! His eyes are suns of tender praise, Her eyes are stars of tender pride. Go, hide your shameless happiness, The demon cries, within my breast; Think not that I the bond can bless, Which seeing, I am twice unblest. The husband of a year proclaims His recent honor, shows the boy, And calls the babe a thousand names, And dandles it in awkward joy: And then -- I see the wife's pale cheek, Her eyes of pure, celestial ray -- The curse is choked: I cannot speak, But, weeping, turn my head away! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESTIC SONG by DAVID IGNATOW NAPOLEON by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE HISTORY OF A LIFE by BRYAN WALLER PROCTER THE INDIAN SERENADE by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY A RHYME by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE MAY MORNING by CELIA LEIGHTON THAXTER |