AY, gaze upon her rose-wreath'd hair, And gaze upon her smile; Seem as you drank the very air Her breath perfumed the while; And wake for her the gifted line, That wild and witching lay, And swear your heart is as a shrine, That only owns her sway. 'Tis well: I am revenged at last; -- Mark you that scornful cheek, -- The eye averted as you pass'd, Spoke more than words could speak. Ay, now by all the bitter tears That I have shed for thee, -- The racking doubts, the burning fears, -- Avenged they well may be -- By the nights pass'd in sleepless care, The days of endless woe; All that you taught my heart to bear, All that yourself will know. I would not wish to see you laid Within an early tomb; I should forget how you betray'd, And only weep your doom: But this is fitting punishment, To live and love in vain, -- O my wrung heart, be thou content, And feed upon his pain. Go thou and watch her lightest sigh, -- Thine own it will not be; And bask beneath her sunny eye, -- It will not turn on thee. 'Tis well: the rack, the chain, the wheel, Far better hadst thou proved; Ev'n I could almost pity feel, For thou art not beloved. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET TO LAKE LEMAN by GEORGE GORDON BYRON PARTED by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR TO A CAPTIOUS CRITIC by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE DANCE OF THE SEVIN DEIDLY SYNNIS by WILLIAM DUNBAR TACKING SHIP OFF SHORE by WALTER MITCHELL HALSTED STREET CAR by CARL SANDBURG SONNET: 71 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE A SONG FOR THE SINGLE TABLE ON NEW YEAR'S DAY by ELIZABETH FRANCES AMHERST |