I think just how my shape will rise - When I shall be "forgiven" - Till Hair - and Eyes - and timid Head - Are out of sight - in Heaven - I think just how my lips will weigh - With shapeless - quivering - prayer - That you - so late - "Consider" me - The "Sparrow" of your Care - I mind me that of Anguish - sent - Some drifts were moved away - Before my simple bosom - broke - And why not this - if they? And so I con that thing - "forgiven" - Until - delirious - borne - By my long bright - and longer - trust - I drop my Heart - unshriven! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UPON THE LOSS OF HIS MISTRESSES by ROBERT HERRICK SONG by WALTHER VON DER VOGELWEIDE THE LAMENTATION OF THE OLD PENSIONER (2) by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS TRIOLET: THOSE VIOLETS BLUE by H. W. BANKS BALLDE DES PENDUS by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE |