SOME poets sing of sweethearts dead, Some sing of true loves far away; Some sing of those that others wed, And some of idols turned to clay. I sing a pensive roundelay To sweethearts of a doubtful lot, The passions vanished in a day -- The little loves that I've forgot. For, as the happy years have sped, And golden dreams have changed to gray, How oft the flame of love was fed By glance, or smile, from Maud or May, When wayward Cupid was at play; Mere fancies, formed of who knows what, But still my debt I ne'er can pay -- The little loves that I've forgot. O joyous hours forever fled! O sudden hopes that would not stay! Held only by the slender thread Of memory that's all astray. Their very names I cannot say. Time's will is done, I know them not; But blessings on them all, I pray -- The little loves that I've forgot. ENVOI Sweetheart, why foolish fears betray? Ours is the one true lovers' knot; Note well the burden of my lay -- The little loves that I've forgot. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CLOUDS: THE CLOUD CHORUS by ARISTOPHANES TO THE POOR by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD FIRE, FAMINE AND SLAUGHTER. A WAR ECLOGUE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE LITTLE BEACH BIRD by RICHARD HENRY DANA (1787-1879) SIMON LEGREE: NEGRO SERMON; MEMORIAL TO BOOKER T. WASHINGTON by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY VENICE; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW |