OUT of my heart, one day, I wrote a song, With my heart's blood imbued, Instinct with passion, tremulously strong, With grief subdued; Breathing a fortitude Pain-bought. And one who claimed much love for what I wrought, Read and considered it, And spoke: "Ay, brother, -- 't is well writ, But where's the joke?" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NO LONGER COULD I DOUBT HIM TRUE by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE LITTLE CROSS by EDITH AGNEW THE STEAM-ENGINE: CANTO 4: LORD STANHOPE'S STEAMER by T. BAKER ON THE BACKWARDNESS OF THE SPRING 1771 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD AN EPITAPH UPON THE DEATH OF HIS AUNT, ELIZABETH SKRYMSHER by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE SISTER AT A MATERNITY HOSPITAL by R. ALEXANDER BATE |