OH eyes! Our Sun's extinct, and at an end, Or rather glorified in Heav'n does shine; There shall we see her, there does she attend, And at our long delay perchance repine. Alas, my ears, the voice you lov'd to hear, Is now rais'd up to the coelestial choir; And you, my feet, she's gone that us'd to steer Your course, where you till death can ne'er aspire. Cannot my soul nor body yet be free? 'Twas not my fault, you this occasion lost; That seeing, hearing, finding her y' are crost: Blame Death, or rather blest be ever He, Who binds and looses, makes and can destroy, And, when Life's done, crowns with Eternal Joy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...APOLLO AT LAX by KAREN SWENSON THE OLD ENEMY by SARA TEASDALE BLUEBEARD'S CLOSET by ROSE TERRY COOKE SESTINA OF THE TRAMP ROYAL by RUDYARD KIPLING WHEN LET BY RAIN by EDWARD TAYLOR SONGS OF NIGHT TO MORNING: 1. AT THE THEATRE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) TWELVE SONNETS: 2 by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) TO ALEXIS IN ANSWER TO HIS POEM AGAINST FRUITION by APHRA BEHN POET FLAYS TEMPTATIONS OF CITY LIFE by MORRIS GILBERT BISHOP |