MOTHER, I cannot mind my wheel; My fingers ache, my lips are dry: Oh! if you felt the pain I feel! But oh! who over felt as I! No longer could I doubt him true... All other men may use deceit; He always said my eyes were blue, And often swore my lips were sweet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PSALM 103 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE PSALM 20. EXAUDIAT TE DEUS by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE SONNET by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES THERE IS AN OLD CITY by KARL BULCKE KITCHENER'S MARCH by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR THE BLUES; A LITERARY ECLOGUE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON KATRINA ON THE PORCH; A BIT OF TURNER PUT INTO WORDS by ALICE CARY |