Alas! sad Jealousy! the scalding tear Drops on her hands - her brow aches sadly too; This morn she wandered half the country through, Weeping, with those false eyes for ever near: She, who look'd boldly in the front of Love, And searched his glittering face, so proud and fair, Must droop her gaze, declining from above, And clasp his feet, and shed her sorrows there: Or, like some aged lazar must she lie, Some palsied crone, who hath no voice but tears - Who sees the long-expected leech pass by Her couch, to whisper hope in younger ears; And her heart trembles, dying, yet astir; She knows the healer can do nought for her! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SCARECROW by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE TWO RED ROSES ACROSS THE MOON by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) THE DYING SOLDIER by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE BALLAD OF A DAFT GIRL by DOROTHY ALDIS LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 8. THE EVICTION by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM THE LITTLE OLD WOMEN; TO VICTOR HUGO by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE THE DRUG-SHOP, OR, ENDYMION IN EDMONSTOUN by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THE ANCIENTS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 38. TO ONE NOW ESTRANGED by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |