OMOTH, that yearns for me, The whole world pities thee, Foredoomed on heedless wing, By mad fire-worshipping. But sadder is my fate, Who, when the night is late, See thee in love come nigh, At my caress to die! When I would lend thee aid, To death thou art betrayed; Yea, I that love thee well, I am thy heaven and hell! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN A LECTURE-ROOM by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY (FROM A WESTERNER'S POINT OF VIEW) by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE JEW TO JESUS by FLORENCE KIPER FRANK TEARS by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE CAMPS OF GREEN by WALT WHITMAN REMINISCENCE by LYLE BARTSCHER PEACE QUATRAIN by CHARLOTTE LOUISE BERTLESEN |