THE great love that was not for her Passed on, nor paused to see The wistful eyes, the hands' vague stir, The mouth's mute misery. The little love she recked not of Crept closer bit by bit, Until for very lack of love, She smiled and welcomed it. Not hers to choose, to weigh and part The greater from the less; She only strove to fill a heart That ached with emptiness. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OUR LADY by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE DEWEY AT MANILA [MAY 1, 1898] by ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON TO MY FIANCEE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A FAIRY TALE by PHILIP JAMES BAILEY THE MUSIC O' THE DEAD by WILLIAM BARNES THE WINTER-SPRING by JOSEPH BEAUMONT FORMALITY AND THE SOUL: 1. JOHN SINGER SARGENT by KARL W. BIGELOW |