If fate Love's dear ambition mar, And load his breast with hopeless pain, And seem to blot out sun and star, Love, won or lost, is countless gain; His sorrow boasts a secret bliss Which sorrow of itself beguiles, And Love in tears too noble is For pity, save of Love in smiles. But, looking backward through his tears, With vision of maturer scope, How often one dead joy appears The platform of some better hope! And, let us own, the sharpest smart Which human patience may endure Pays light for that which leaves the heart More generous, dignified, and pure. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VOICE OF THE GRASS by SARAH ROBERTS BOYLE SANCTUARY by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY WINTERTIME by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON EXPLANATION by VIRGINIA A. ALLIN ON A GIFT OF FLOWERS by GUILLAUME VICTOR EMILE AUGIER THE SECOND BROTHER; AN UNFINISHED DRAMA by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |