Of Carthage he, that worthy warrior, Could overcome but could not use his chance. And I likewise, of all my long endeavour, The sharp conquest though fortune did advance, Could not it use. The hold that is given over I unpossessed. So hangeth in balance Of war my peace, reward of all my pain. At Monzon thus I restless rest in Spain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TROUBLE IN DE KITCHEN by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR A QUESTION by JOHN MILLINGTON SYNGE THE MUSICAL CONQUERERS by PHILIP AYRES MEN OF WAKE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE NEW PROSERPINE by MATHILDE BLIND |