A ROSE to smell a moment, then to leave, Chance strain of song you smile at as you pass, Bubble that breaks before you lip the glass, Chain frail as the frail thread that spiders weave; Oh, do not think that I myself deceive! Thus, and not otherwise, to you am I, -- A moment's pleasure as you pass me by, Powerless, at best, to make you joy or grieve. And you, to me, my sun-god and my sun, Who warmed my heart to life with careless ray! Forever will that burning memory stay And warm me in the grave when life is done: -- What farther grace has any woman won? Since your chance gift you cannot take away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GLADYS AND HER ISLAND; AN IMPERFECT TALE WITH DOUBTFUL MORAL by JEAN INGELOW THE SONG OF HIAWATHA: THE FOUR WINDS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 6 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI ON THE PROJECTED KENDAL AND WINDERMERE RAILWAY by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 15. AL-GHAFFAR by EDWIN ARNOLD THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 107. THE SUBLIME: 2 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT ON THE FALL OF ZALONA by EMILY JANE BRONTE A LIKENESS (PORTRAIT BUST OF AN UNKNOWN, CAPITOL, ROME) by WILLA SIBERT CATHER |