GIVE pardon, blessed soul, to my bold cries, If they, importune, interrupt thy song, Which now with joyful notes thou sing'st among The angel-quiristers of th' heavenly skies. Give pardon eke, sweet soul, to my slow eyes, That since I saw thee now it is so long, And yet the tears that unto thee belong To thee as yet they did not sacrifice. I did not know that thou wert dead before; I did not feel the grief I did sustain; The greater stroke astonisheth the more; Astonishment takes from us sense of pain; I stood amazed when others' tears begun, And now begin to weep when they have done. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...QUATRAIN: FATE by RALPH WALDO EMERSON OH! BLAME NOT THE BARD by THOMAS MOORE THE TABLES TURNED by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH TRAILING ARBUTUS by HENRY ABBEY MY PRAYER FOR TODAY by MAUD AKERS THE POET'S SHIELD by ARCHILOCHUS IMITATIONS OF SHAKESPEARE: A STORM by JOHN ARMSTRONG |