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...OF THE REED THAT THE JEWS SET IN OUR SAVIOUR'S HAND by WILLIAM ALABASTER WINDOW TRIMMER by MARGARET LEE ASHLEY SONNET by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS THE FORCED RECRUIT AT SOLFERINO by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING MOLE-BLIND by MARTHANN CANFIELD TO MY COUSIN ANNE BODHAM, ON RECEIVING FROM HER A PURSE by WILLIAM COWPER THE FEAR by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES |