GO, gentle paper; happy, happier far Than he that sends thee, with this character: Go, view those blessed banks, enriched by A fair but faithless maiden's company; And if consorted with my tears of brine, Which, gentle flood, add waves to those of thine, Thou chance to touch the sand in thy progression, Made valuable by her steps' impression: Stay, stay thy course; and fortunate from danger Dwell there, where my ill-fate makes me a stranger. If, faithful paper which hold'st nought of Art, Thou come into her hands who kills my heart; And she demand thee how I spend my hours, Tell her, O tell her! how in gloomy bowers, In caverns yet unknown even to the sun, And places free from all confusion Except my thoughts, there sit I girt with fears; Where day and night I turn myself to tears, Only to wash away that stain which she Hath (careless) thrown upon her constancy; And if, touch'd with repentance, she bedew Thee with some crystal drops, I would she knew Her sorrows or the breaking of the dart Heals not her wounded faith, nor my slain heart. And my just griefs of all redress bereaven Shall ever witness before men and heaven, That as she is the fair'st and most untrue Of those that ever man or read or knew, So am I the most constant without mate Of all that breathe, and most affectionate; Although assured that nor my love nor faith Shall reap one joy but by the hand of death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE REVENGE OF HAMISH by SIDNEY LANIER THE PROPHECY OF SAMUEL SEWALL by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER AT FONT-GEORGES by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE PSALM 55 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE ON THE FALL OF ZALONA by EMILY JANE BRONTE |