A Whimsey AH, child, thou art but half thy darling mother's; Hers couldst thou wholly be, My light in thee would outglow all in others; She would relive to me. But niggard Nature's trick of birth Bars, lest she overjoy, Renewal of the loved on earth Save with alloy. The Dame has no regard, alas, my maiden, For love and loss like mine -- No sympathy with mind-sight memory-laden; Only with fickle eyne. To her mechanic artistry My dreams are all unknown, And why I wish that thou couldst be But One's alone! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG OF THE MOON by CLAUDE MCKAY ANIMAL CRACKERS by CHRISTOPHER DARLINGTON MORLEY THE DREAMER by SHAEMAS O'SHEEL A LIFE'S PARALLELS by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 82 by ALFRED TENNYSON INVITATION TO PETERHEAD by JAMES HAY BEATTIE TO ALEXIS IN ANSWER TO HIS POEM AGAINST FRUITION by APHRA BEHN THE WIDEST HEARTHSTONE by BERTON BRALEY WRITTEN TO GAALDINE PRISON CAVES TO A.G.A. by EMILY JANE BRONTE |