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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

I SING THEE WITH THE STOCK-DOVE'S THROAT by KATHERINE HARRIS BRADLEY

Last Line: AND ALL MY PASSION'S TORRENT SPENT %IN RECOLLECTION


I sing thee with the stock-dove's throat,
Warm, crooning, superstitious note,
That on its dearie so doth dote
It falls to sorrow,
And from the fair, white swans afloat
A dirge must borrow.


In thee I have such deep content,
I can but murmur a lament;
It is as though my heart were rent
By thy perfection,
And all my passion's torrent spent
In recollection.




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