O WHAT unhoped for sweet supply! O what joys exceeding! What an affecting charm feel I, From delight proceeding! That which I long despaired to be, To her I am, and she to me. She that alone in cloudy grief Long to me appeared: She now alone with bright relief All those clouds hath cleared. Both are immortal and divine: Since I am hers, and she is mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THERE IS NO NATURAL RELIGION (A) by WILLIAM BLAKE A FRAGMENT by GEORGE GORDON BYRON STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING by ROBERT FROST IDYLLS OF THE KING: TO THE QUEEN by ALFRED TENNYSON DON'T YOU WISH YOU KNEW! by A. H. B. THE HEAVENS ARE OUR RIDDLE by HERBERT BATES THE PRAYER OF NATURE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |