Methinks the ills of life I fain would shun; But then I must shun life which is a blank: Even in my childhood oft my spirit sank Thinking of all that had still to be done. Among my many friends there is not one Like her with whom I sat upon the bank Willow-o'er-shadowed; from whose lips I drank A love more pure than streams that sing and run. But many times that joy has cost a sigh; And many times I in my heart have sought For the old comfort, and not found it yet: Surely in that calm day when I shall die The painful thought will be a blessed thought, And I shall sorrow that I must forget. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |