@3A solace fond and sought in Fate's despite, If I must never please you any more, You that toward joy, be it e'er so dim, of yore Turned sweet and fain as turn your flowers toward light: Nay, since thus late my poor small gift I write Yours, 'tis in truth as who should wave you o'er Surge of wild seas from shadow-blinded shore, Or cry your name through echo-less wastes of night. Yet as one cast away on loneliest strand, Past hail of hope, still signs with voice and hand, Lest doom in utter dread on his heat should fall, Hearkening that hush: even no far off I seem To cry to you, mavrone, and beckon; and dream You see the hand, and dream you hear the call.@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE FAIR CLARINDA, WHO MADE LOVE TO ME by APHRA BEHN HOLY CROSS DAY by ROBERT BROWNING THE FOREFATHER by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON TO A CHILD OF QUALITY, FIVE YEARS OLD. THE AUTHOR THAN FORTY by MATTHEW PRIOR ANONYMOUS by JOHN BANISTER TABB STORM AT SEA (1) by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE |