WHEN two who love are parted, They talk, as friend to friend, Clasp hands and weep a little, And sigh without an end. We did not weep, my darling, Not sigh "Why must this be ..." The tears, the sighs, the anguish Came later—and to me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SETTLER: AMERICA IN THE MAKING by ALFRED BILLINGS STREET THE CASTLE BY THE SEA by JOHANN LUDWIG UHLAND MAN FRAIL AND GOD ETERNAL by ISAAC WATTS AN AUTUMN NIGHT by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS THE REQUEST. TO LOVE by PHILIP AYRES PORTRAIT SONNETS: 2 by HENRY BELLAMANN MOONSTRUCK by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT SONNET TO A LADY ON THE DEATH OF MRS. --. by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |