You love me, only me. Do I not know? If I were gone your life would be no more Than his who, hungering on a rocky shore, Shipwrecked, alone, observes the ebb and flow Of hopeless ocean widening forth below, And is remembering all that was before. Dear, I believe it, at your strong heart's core I am the life; no need to tell me so. And yet--Ah, husband, though I be more fair, More worth your love, and though you loved her not, (Else must you have some different, deeper name For loving me), dimly I seem aware, As though you conned old stories long forgot, Those days are with you--hers--before I came. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MONADNOCK IN EARLY SPRING by AMY LOWELL THERE IS NO NATURAL RELIGION (A) by WILLIAM BLAKE SPANIARDS' GRAVES AT THE ISLES OF SHOALS by CELIA LEIGHTON THAXTER THE POET'S SHIELD by ARCHILOCHUS DOWN THE RIVER by BARCROFT HENRY BOAKE |