O THOU who sendest dewdrops to the garden, Until each fragrant bud receives its own, Canst Thou not look on human hearts and pardon To waiting loneliness its bitter moan? The flowers can drink the dawn, -- it hastens to them; But hearts athirst wait sadly for their hour, For the sweet gift that may, perchance, undo them, -- Too fatal sweet a dew for human flower. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EGERTON MANUSCRIPT: 102 by THOMAS WYATT DEATH AND DOCTOR HORNBOOK; A TRUE STORY by ROBERT BURNS SONG FOR THE LUDDITES by GEORGE GORDON BYRON ON THE BRINK by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY PASSION'S HOUNDS by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES EPIGRAMS: BOOK I, 1 by MARCUS VALERIUS MARTIALIS |