Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, DEARTH, by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

DEARTH, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: I hold your trembling hand
Last Line: Than e'en your broken sobs may now declare.
Alternate Author Name(s): Johnson Of Boone, Benj. F.
Subject(s): Kisses; Love; Tears


I HOLD your trembling hand tonight -- and yet
I may not know what wealth of bliss is mine,
My heart is such a curious design
Of trust and jealousy! Your eyes are wet --
So must I think they jewel some regret, --
And lo, the loving arms that round me twine
Cling only as the tendrils of a vine
Whose fruit has long been gathered: I forget,
While crimson clusters of your kisses press
Their wine out on my lips, my royal fare
Of rapture, since blind fancy needs must guess
They once poured out their sweetness otherwhere,
With fuller flavoring of happiness
Than e'en your broken sobs may now declare.





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