LET, oh world, ah let me be! Tempt me not with gifts of pleasure. Leave alone this heart to treasure All its joy, its misery. What my grief I can not say, 'Tis a strange, a wistful sorrow; Yet through tears at every morrow I behold the light of day. When my weary soul finds rest Oft a beam of rapture brightens All the gloom of cloud, and lightens This oppression in my breast. Let, oh world, ah, let me be! Tempt me not with gifts of pleasure. Leave alone this heart to treasure All its joy, its misery. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |