Though cruel fate should bid us part, Far as the pole and line, Her dear idea round my heart, Should tenderly entwine. Tho' mountains, rise, and deserts howl, And oceans roar between; Yet, dearer than my deathless soul, I still would love my Jean. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ROME. AT THE PYRAMID OF CESTIUS NEAR THE GRAVES OF SHELLEY by THOMAS HARDY SPRING'S WELCOME, FR. ALEXANDER AND CAMPASPE by JOHN LYLY PREFATORY POEM TO MY BROTHER'S SONNETS by ALFRED TENNYSON BY BLUE ONTARIO'S SHORE by WALT WHITMAN THE TOUCH STONE by SAMUEL BISHOP THE RAIN ON THE ROOF by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |