And do I see some cause a hope to feed, Or doth the tedious burden of long woe In weakened minds, quick apprehending breed, Of every image, which may comfort show? I cannot brag of word, much less of deed; Fortune wheels still with me in one sort slow; My wealth no more, and no whit less my need; Desire still on the stilts of fear doth go. And yet amid all fears, a hope there is Stol'n to my heart, since last fair night, nay day: Stella's eyes sent to me the beams of bliss, Looking on me, while I looked other way; But when mine eyes back to their heaven did move, They fled with blush, which guilty seemed of love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JOHN WINTER by LAURENCE BINYON THE MAKING OF MAN by JOHN WHITE CHADWICK SOLILOQUY OF A TURKEY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR OUR CHRIST by HARRY WEBB FARRINGTON THE LIVING TEMPLE by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES BROWNING AT ASOLO by ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON CARILLON by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW |