I FILL with sighs the air whene'er I stand On yon' high hill, and thence survey the plain, Where Laura, she who could my heart command, Did in her Earthly Paradise remain. For now she's dead, and left me here alone, Griev'd for her loss, that I could gladly die; Drowning my eyes in making of my moan, My tears have left no space about me dry. There is no stone upon that craggy hill, Nor these sweet fields an herb or plant do bring, Nor flower 'mongst all that do the valleys fill, Nor any drop of water from the spring; Nor beasts so wild, that in the woods do dwell, But of my grief for Laura's death can tell. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EXISTING POOL by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE TRANSIENCE OF HANDS by KAREN SWENSON EACH IN HIS OWN TONGUE by WILLIAM HERBERT CARRUTH LONG ISLAND SOUND by EMMA LAZARUS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 6. ALLAH-AS-SALAM by EDWIN ARNOLD |