SINCE Coelia's my foe; To a desert I'll go! Where some river For ever Shall echo my woe! The trees shall appear More relenting than her; In the morning Adorning Each leaf with a tear. When I make my sad moan To the rocks, all alone; From each hollow Will follow Some pitiful groan. But, with silent disdain, She requites all my pain! To my mourning, Returning No answer again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PROGRESSIVE HEALTH by CARL DENNIS TO THE REPUBLIC by JAMES GALVIN MONTEREY [SEPTEMBER 23, 1846] by CHARLES FENNO HOFFMAN A TEAMSTER'S FAREWELL by CARL SANDBURG ETUDE REALISTE by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE LAMP [LAMPE] by HENRY VAUGHAN BROWN OF OSSAWATOMIE [DECEMBER 2, 1859] by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |