ONE more bruised heart laid bare! one victim more! One more wail heard! Oh, is there never end Of all these passionate agonies, that rend Young hopes to tatters through enslavements sore? So long, pale child, your patient spirit bore Its wrong in secret, ere you sought a friend; And yet, what love of mine can ever mend Again for you the veil your tyrant tore? Oh, there are woes too bitter to be shown! Oh, there are tears too burning to be seen! Yet purest sympathy, select and clean, May feel the agony its very own. Sweet slave-child, whom your voiceless griefs oppress, I cannot cure; I may in part express. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MAN IN A ROOM by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS A CRADLE SONG by WILLIAM BLAKE THE PROGRESS OF POETRY by JONATHAN SWIFT SONNET by THEODORE AGRIPPA D' AUBIGNE DEATH by EVGENY ABRAMOVICH BARATYNSKY OUR CLUB by SYLVIA DILLAVOU BARCLAY MY DEAREST JULIA by WILLIAM BARNES |