AH, gone the days when for undying kindness I still could render you undying song! You yet can give, but I can give no more; Fate, in her extreme blindness, Has wrought me so great wrong. I am left poor indeed; Gone is my sole and amends-making store, And I am needy with a double need. Behold that I am like a fountained nymph, Lacking her customed lymph, The longing parched in stone upon her mouth, Unwatered of its ancient plenty. She (Remembering her irrevocable streams), A Thirst made marble, sits perpetually With sundered lips of still-memorial drouth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MEMORIAL TO D.C.: 2. PRAYER TO PERSEPHONE by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY ASPECTA MEDUSA by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI GOLDEN HILL by HAMILTON FISH ARMSTRONG PSALM 104, SELECTION by RICHARD BLACKMORE PASSIVE PARTICIPLE'S PETITION by JOHN BYROM VERSES ON PREACHING EXTEMPORE by JOHN BYROM SONG TO ONE THAT DESIRED TO KNOW MY MISTRESS by THOMAS CAREW |