Thou bleedest, my poor Heart! and thy distress Reasoning I ponder with a scornful smile, And probe thy sore wound sternly, though the while Swoln be mine eye and dim with heaviness. Why didst thou listen to Hope's whisper bland? Or, listening, why forget the healing tale, When Jealousy with feverous fancies pale Jarred thy fine fibres with a maniac's hand? Faint was that Hope, and rayless! -- Yet 'twas fair, And soothed with many a dream the hour of rest: Thou shouldst have loved it most, when most opprest, And nursed it with an agony of care, Even as a Mother her sweet infant heir That wan and sickly droops upon her breast! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...1914: 5. THE SOLDIER by RUPERT BROOKE LIFE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE PLOUGHER [OR PLOWER] by PADRAIC COLUM FRINGED GENTIAN by EMILY DICKINSON DEAD COW FARM by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES MONODY ON THE ASTOR HOUSE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |