They love me, and I have not made them happy, (Rush of the wind and river whistles moaning) They love me and I cannot give them peace, (The city shifts in sleep with a low groaning). They love me and I watch their faces aging And growing pinched as the slow winter dawn; I give them nothing but a few sad poems, And life is short and we shall soon be gone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PLANTATION CHILD'S LULLABY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR INLAND by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE LIGHT THAT LIES by THOMAS MOORE BEAUTIFUL MEALS by THOMAS STURGE MOORE GOODS TRAIN AT NIGHT by KENNETH H. ASHLEY |