What torture lurks within a single thought When grown too constant, and however kind, However welcome still, the weary mind Aches with its presence. Dull remembrance taught Remembers on unceasingly; unsought The old delight is with us but to find That all recurring joy is pain refined, Become a habit, and we struggle, caught. You lie upon my heart as on a nest, Folded in peace, for you can never know How crushed I am with having you at rest Heavy upon my life. I love you so You bind my freedom from its rightful quest. In mercy lift your drooping wings and go. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OLD POETS by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE by CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE THE PRAIRIE-GRASS DIVIDING by WALT WHITMAN INVITED GUESTS by FRANCES EKIN ALLISON THE VIOLET by ALEXANDER ANDERSON ONCE WITH DEATH NEAR by REBA MAXWELL AVERY |