Oh, whither (poor forsaken) wilt thou go, To go from sorrow and thine own distress, When ev'ry place presents like face of woe, And no remove can make thy sorrows less? Yet go (forsaken), leave these woods, these plains; Leave her and all, and all for her that leaves Thee and thy love forlorn, and both disdains, And of both, wrongful deems and ill conceives. Seek out some place and see if any place Can give the least release unto thy grief; Convey thee from the thought of thy disgrace; Steal from thyself and be thy care's own thief. But yet what comfort shall I hereby gain? Bearing the wound, I needs must feel the pain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHILDREN'S HOUR by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE CHILD ALONE: 6. BLOCK CITY by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON ON SEEING AN OLD POET IN THE CAFE ROYAL by JOHN BETJEMAN IN SOME FAR DISTANT TIME by CATHERINE BRADSHAW |