Like to a hermit poor in place obscure I mean to spend my days of endless doubt, To wail such woes as time cannot recure, Where none but love shall ever find me out. My food shall be of care and sorrow made, My drink nought else but tears fall'n from mine eyes, And for my light in such obscured shade The flames shall serve which from my heart arise. A gown of gray my body shall attire, My staff of broken hope whereon I'll stay; Of late repentance linked with long desire The couch is framed whereon my limbs I'll lay. And at my gate despair shall linger still To let in death when love and fortune will. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BEFORE THE BIRTH OF ONE OF HER CHILDREN by ANNE BRADSTREET RABBI BEN EZRA by ROBERT BROWNING CHANSON INNOCENTE: 2, FR. TULIPS by EDWARD ESTLIN CUMMINGS STRANGE HURT [SHE KNOWS] by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES TO LUCASTA, [ON] GOING BEYOND THE SEAS by RICHARD LOVELACE |