WHEN I hold a budding pleasure In my heart, can I diffuse it? No; you want the musk full-measure, Not the bud, -- so you refuse it. When I hold an ebbing sorrow, Can I share the balm with you? No; you want no lessening morrow, But meridian's deepest hue. Blossom of my joy completest, Zenith of my sorrow's hour, Yours. So I may keep the sweetest: Buds and lees -- ambrosial power. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LIFE'S MIRROR by MARY AINGE DE VERE A POET'S EPITAPH by EBENEZER ELLIOTT SNOWFLAKES by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW O, BREATHE NOT HIS NAME! by THOMAS MOORE THE TRAIL OF NINETY-EIGHT by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE A SPIRITUAL AND WELL-ORDERED MIND by HENRY ALFORD |