To turn my volumes o'er nor find (Sweet unsuspicious friend!) Some vestige of an erring mind To chide or discommend, Believe that all were loved like you With love from blame exempt, Believe that all my griefs were true And all my joys but dreamt. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEATH IN THE KITCHEN by THOMAS HOOD THE PRINCESS: SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: APOLOGY TO CLEO by WILLIAM BASSE THE TRUE LOVE-KNOTT by JOSEPH BEAUMONT ETHELWALD, FR. METRICAL HISTORY OF ST. CUTHBERT by BEDE THE SPINNING-WHEEL (YONDERLAND SONG) by LYA BERGER SONNET: HER WORST AND BEST by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 24, ASKING FOR HER HEART (2) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |