In vain to me the smiling mornings shine, And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire; The birds in vain their amorous descant join, Or cheerful fields resume their green attire; These ears, alas! for other notes repine, A different object do these eyes require; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine, And in my breast the imperfect joys expire. Yet morning smiles the busy race to cheer, And newborn pleasure brings to happier men; The fields to all their wonted tribute bear; To warm their little loves the birds complain: I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear, And weep the more, because I weep in vain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CORNUCOPIA OF RED AND GREEN COMFITS by AMY LOWELL THE NIGHTINGALE; A CONVERSATION POEM by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE PIRATE STORY by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON A WINTER TWILIGHT by ARLO BATES REMEMBRANCE by MARGARET E. BRUNER TREES IN WINTER by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |