I said I splendidly loved you; it's not true. Such long swift tides stir not a land-locked sea. On gods or fools the high risk falls -- on you -- The clean clear bitter-sweet that's not for me. Love soars from earth to ecstasies unwist. Love is flung Lucifer-like from Heaven to Hell. But -- there are wanderers in the middle mist, Who cry for shadows, clutch, and cannot tell Whether they love at all, or, loving, whom: An old song's lady, a fool in fancy dress, Or phantoms, or their own face on the gloom; For love of Love, or from heart's loneliness. Pleasure's not theirs, nor pain. They doubt, and sigh, And do not love at all. Of these am I. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARCH by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE CONVERGENCE OF THE TWAIN; LINES ON LOSS OF THE TITANIC by THOMAS HARDY AT A COWBOY DANCE by JAMES BARTON ADAMS NOONTIDE REST by ANTIPHILUS OF BYZANTIUM THE WANDERING JEW by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER TO A HAPPY WARRIOR by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT BLANK MISGIVINGS OF A CREATURE MOVING ABOUT IN WORLDS NOT REALIZED: 5 by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH AT EVENTIDE; C. N. - DIED APRIL, 1857 by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK |