Still in the trace of my tormented thought, My ceaseless cares must march on to my death; Thy least regard too dearly have I bought, Who to my comfort never deign'st a breath. Why shouldst thou stop thine ears now to my cries, Whose eyes were open ready to oppress me? Why shut'st thou not the cause whence all did rise? Or hear me now, and seek how to redress me? Injurious Delia, yet I'll love thee still Whilst that I breathe in sorrow of my smart; I'll tell the world that I deserved but ill, And blame myself for to excuse thy heart. Then judge who sins the greater of us twain: I in my love, or thou in thy disdain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ODE TO THE RAIN by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE CONFLICT by CECIL DAY LEWIS FAUST: SCENE 1. PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN by JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE A GLASS OF BEER by JAMES STEPHENS CLEVER TOM CLINCH GOING TO BE HANGED by JONATHAN SWIFT CHRIST THE CONSOLER by HENRY WILLIAMS BAKER |