Absence, alas, Causeth me pass From all solace To great grievance. Yet though that I Absent must be, I trust that she Hath remembrance. Where I her find Loving and kind, There my poor mind Eased shall be. And for my part, My love and heart Shall not revert Though I should die. Beauty, pleasure, Riches, treasure, Or to endure In prison strong Shall not me make Her to forsake Though I should lack Her never so long. For once trust I, Ere that I die, For to espy The happy hour, At liberty With her to be That pities me In this dolour. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 4 by JAMES JOYCE CHAMBER MUSIC: 12 by JAMES JOYCE THE EARTH-CHILD IN THE GRASS by KATHERINE MANSFIELD CONTRA MORTEM: THE BEING AS MEMORY by HAYDEN CARRUTH LOCKED OUT; AS TOLD TO A CHILD by ROBERT FROST |