ALAS, how bitter are the wrongs of love! Life has no other sorrow so acute: For love is made of every fine emotion, Of generous impulses, and noble thoughts; It looketh to the stars, and dreams of Heaven; It nestles 'mid the flowers, and sweetens earth. Love is aspiring, yet is humble, too: It doth exalt another o'er itself, With sweet heart-homage, which delights to raise That which it worships; yet is fain to win The idol to its lone and lowly home Of deep affection. 'Tis an utter wreck When such hopes perish. From that moment, life Has in its depths a well of bitterness, For which there is no healing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SYNOPSIS OF A FAILED POEM by JAMES GALVIN POETRY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON AT THE ZOO IN SPAIN by CLARENCE MAJOR A CERTAIN POET ON THE DEBATES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS CELSUS AT HADRIAN'S VILLA by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |