FEW friends are mine, though many wights there be Who, meeting oft a phantasm that makes claim To be myself, and hath my face and name, And whose thin fraud I wink at privily, Account this light impostor very me. What boots it undeceive them, and proclaim Myself myself, and whelm this cheat with shame? I care not, so he leave my true self free, Impose not on me also; but alas! I too, at fault, bewildered, sometimes take Him for myself, and far from mine own sight, Torpid, indifferent, doth mine own self pass; And yet anon leaps suddenly awake, And spurns the gibbering mime into the night. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BEARING LEAVES AGAIN by DAVID IGNATOW THE INDIA WHARF by SARA TEASDALE THE FALLOW DEER AT THE LONELY HOUSE by THOMAS HARDY UPON JULIA'S BREASTS by ROBERT HERRICK THE AGED LOVER RENOUNCETH LOVE by THOMAS VAUX |