[@3Of a Knight whose Lady died before he knew his love for her.@1] How was I to know When you lived, long ago, The sorcery in you,—that you could be, Once dead, a white magician wasting me From flaming crucibles of weary spells? And, was I to know I could be plaguèd so By those tired hands, like lilies white and cold, That flowered from out your falling sleeves of gold? With a desire accurst for them I thirst. Ah! Was I to know, Of all fantastic woe, Your russet hair was of the hue to stain For ever the long night of dreams? What pain That constellation dyes through the pale skies! Nay! And I did not know When, mid the tall flambeaux, On the great catafalque, sad state you kept, That round your brows, a flickering lustre, crept To be your aureole,—my dying soul. Alas! I did not know, Who lightly let you go, That Death would be a mirror to show clear The miracle that blinded me too near.— With masque and madrigal I paid you all. Therefore, now, now I know I should have loved you.—Oh! I lost with you all music, valour, light Of things immortal. To the baffled knight "Rot on," God saith, "within the foss of Death." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 2. LOS CIGARILLOS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON ON THE PROPOSAL TO ERECT A MONUMENT IN ENGLAND TO LORD BYRON by EMMA LAZARUS CLASS SONG (WHICH WILL BE SUNG ON THE 22ND OF FEBRUARY) by GEORGE SANTAYANA A RED, RED ROSE by ROBERT BURNS THE LADY OF SHALOTT by ALFRED TENNYSON RUMORS FROM AN AEOLIAN HARP by HENRY DAVID THOREAU |