One word is too often profaned For me to profane it, One feeling too falsely disdained For thee to disdain it; One hope is too like despair For prudence to smother, And pity from thee more dear Than that from another. I can give not what men call love, But wilt thou accept not The worship the heart lifts above And the Heavens reject not, -- The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITTLE BOY FOUND, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE PRISONER OF CHILLON: INTRODUCTORY SONNET by GEORGE GORDON BYRON BALLAD: TIME OF ROSES by THOMAS HOOD WHO WALKS WITH BEAUTY by DAVID MORTON A PSALM by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN CARCASSONNE (SUGGESTED BY LORD DUNSANY'S STORY) by BERTON BRALEY THE DESERT by MAXWELL STRUTHERS BURT MASQUE AT THE MARRIAGE OF THE EARL OF SOMERSET: ETERNITY SINGS ALONE by THOMAS CAMPION |