Grief, thou hast lost an ever ready friend Now that the cottage Spinning-wheel is mute; And Care--a comforter that best could suit Her froward mood, and softliest reprehend; And Love--a charmer's voice, that used to lend, More efficaciously than aught that flows From harp or lute, kind influence to compose The throbbing pulse--else troubled without end: Even Joy could tell, Joy craving truce and rest From her own overflow, what power sedate On those revolving motions did await Assiduously--to soothe her aching breast; And, to a point of just relief, abate The mantling triumphs of a day too blest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE THREE MUSICIANS by AUBREY BEARDSLEY THE KING'S PICTURE by HELEN LOUISE BARRON BOSTWICK AN ELEGY UPON THE UNTIMELY DEATH OF PRINCE HENRY by THOMAS CAMPION A POET'S CENTENARY by SAMUEL VALENTINE COLE ON HEARING HELEN HAGAN PLAY by JOSEPH SEAMON COTTER JR. TALES OF THE HALL: BOOK 17. THE WIDOW by GEORGE CRABBE WAR IS KIND: 16 by STEPHEN CRANE |