WHEN AS the watches of the night had grown To that deep loneliness where dreams begin, I saw how Love, with visage worn and thin, -- With wings close-bound, went through a town alone. Death-pale he showed, and inly seemed to moan With sore desire some dolorous place to win; Sharp brambles passed had streaked his dazzling skin, -- His bright feet eke were gashed with many a stone. And, as he went, I, sad for piteousness, Might see how men from door and gate would move To stay his steps; or womankind would press, With wistful eyes, to balconies above, And bid him enter in. But Love not less, Mournful, kept on his way. Ah! hapless Love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPIGRAM: HERO AND LEANDER by JOHN DONNE LEINSTER by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY NATHAHNI AND SOYAZHE by FRANCES DAVIS ADAMS WRITTEN ON THE LEAVES OF A FAN by FRANCIS ATTERBURY MY LORD TOMNODDY by ROBERT BARNABAS BROUGH |