O NEVER to be moved, O beauty unrelenting! Hard heart, too dearly loved! Fond love, too late repenting! Why did I dream of too much bliss? Deceitful hope was cause of this. O hear me speak this, and no more, 'Live you in joy, while I my woes deplore!' All comforts despaired Distaste your bitter scorning; Great sorrows unrepaired Admit no mean in mourning: Die, wretch, since hope from thee is fled. He that must die, is better dead. O dear delight yet, ere I die, Some pity show, though you relief deny! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PORTRAIT OF ONE DEAD by CONRAD AIKEN ABANDONED RANCH, BIG BEND by HAYDEN CARRUTH FOR ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S EVE by MALCOLM COWLEY TO A FRIEND I CAN'T FIND by JAMES GALVIN HOPE (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE REWARD by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |