O love, you have shorn me, and rifled my heart, You have torn down the shrine from the innermost part, And through it now rushes a grief, sadly-wild, That breaks as the plaint of a sorrowing child. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PARAGRAPHS: 9 by HAYDEN CARRUTH ARMAGEDDON by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON FAITH by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON IRELAND; WRITTEN FOR THE ART AUTOGRAPH DURING IRISH FAMINE by SIDNEY LANIER GUNS AS KEYS: AND THE GREAT GATE SWINGS by AMY LOWELL |