OIF the tiny flowers But knew of my wounded heart, Their tears, like mine, in showers Would fall, to cure the smart. If knew the nightingales only That I'm so mournful and sad, They would cheer my misery lonely With their notes so tuneful and glad. If the golden stars high o'er us But knew of my bitter woe, They would speak words of comfort in chorus, Descending hither below. Not one of these can allay it, One only knows of my smart; 'Tis she, I grieve to say it, Who thus hath wounded my heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VIRGIN MARY TO THE CHILD JESUS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING HARRIET BEECHER STOWE by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE DEATH OF ADONIS by THEOCRITUS A PENNY'S WORTH OF POESY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A COWBOY ALONE WITH HIS CONSCIENCE by JAMES BARTON ADAMS AN ADDRESS TO THE DEITY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |