I WITHIN, what gracious store Of pleasures throng: Rest, beauty, firelit lore, Love-breathing song. Why at the open door Wait you so long? II Oh, why delay to touch The splendid flower? Why tremble ere we clutch The perfect hour? Is it too near, too much, The certain dower? III Beneath the bride's attire Her heart stands still -- Half-way from porch to choir -- For joy, not ill (We shiver before fire As well as chill). IV Home-bound, beyond the bar I heard again, An exile from afar, The tide's refrain: What did the moment mar? Ah! 't was not pain. V Well may the victor shrink Aghast at Fame To hear, on Fortune's brink, His land's acclaim, That with its great doth link His own strange name. VI We raise the precious bowl -- To sip and sigh: The starving takes but dole Lest he may die; Must, then, the famished soul Its feast put by? VII What if our mortal fear Were but the dread Before great joy! How near Were the loved dead! Then were the grave more dear Than bridal bed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RUNES ON WELAND'S SWORD by RUDYARD KIPLING THE TRAGICAL HISTORY OF THE LIFE AND DEATH OF DOCTOR FAUSTUS by CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE DRAPIER'S HILL by JONATHAN SWIFT THE EAGLE; A FRAGMENT by ALFRED TENNYSON THE BROOK: AUTUMN by LAURA ABELL A LITTLE PARABLE by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH |