Now each new Warning died with its first voice, A phantom, a shrill echo, slain at birth Upon the threshold of the House of Mirth: For Warnings came, but yet there was no choice; No choice forevermore! New Warnings came; But came too late: Her dear sweet random ways Would more and more reveal their tragic phase (As of a candle with unsteady flame, Through fierce combustion of uncouth element) -- Proving that love itself, though it can put Light in the eyeball, swiftness in the foot, Cannot restring, within its choral tent, The mind 'twould play on (as a lyre or lute), When God has tampered with the instrument. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ANOTHER SONG WITHOUT WORDS by PAUL VERLAINE HE'D BE NOTHING BUT HIS VIOLIN by MARY KYLE DALLAS LEINSTER by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY TO HIS WINDING-SHEET by ROBERT HERRICK A CHRISTMAS CAROL (1) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY MR. BARNEY MAGUIRE'S ACCOUNT OF THE CORONATION by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |