Still sometimes in my secret heart of hearts I say "Cor mio" when I remember you, And thus I yield us both one tender due, Welding one whole of two divided parts. Ah Friend, too wise or unwise for such arts, Ah noble Friend, silent and strong and true, Would you have given me roses for the rue For which I bartered roses in love's marts? So late in autumn one forgets the spring, Forgets the summer with its opulence, The callow birds that long have found a wing, The swallows that more lately got them hence: Will anything like spring, will anything Like summer, rouse one day the slumbering sense? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LEAK IN THE DIKE; A STORY OF HOLLAND by PHOEBE CARY POPPIES IN THE WHEAT by HELEN MARIA HUNT FISKE JACKSON GROWING OLD by FRANCIS LEDWIDGE COLUMBUS by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER AFTER MUSIC by JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY THE DEATH OF LYON by HENRY PETERSON THE LOVER AND THE BIRDS by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM |