Their sense is with their senses all mixed in, Destroyed by subtleties these women are! More brain, O Lord, more brain! or we shall mar Utterly this fair garden we might win. Behold! I looked for peace, and thought it near. Our inmost hearts had opened, each to each. We drank the pure daylight of honest speech. Alas! that was the fatal draught, I fear. For when of my lost Lady came the word, This woman, O this agony of flesh! Jealous devotion bade her break the mesh, That I might seek that other like a bird. I do adore the nobleness! despise The act! She has gone forth, I know not where. Will the hard world my sentience of her share? I feel the truth; so let the world surmise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DREAMER by SHAEMAS O'SHEEL THE ROSARY by ROBERT CAMERON ROGERS A DEDICATION by ALFRED TENNYSON THE ROSES ON THE TERRACE by ALFRED TENNYSON YEW-TREES by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH RIDDLE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD MARTYRS TO THE MAN by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |