I WOULD not, could I, make thy life as mine; Only I would, if such a thing might be, Thou shouldst not, love, forget me utterly; Yea, when the sultry stars of summer shine On dreaming woods, where nightingales repine, I would that at such times should come to thee Some thought not quite unmix'd with pain, of me, -- Some little sorrow for a soul's decline. Yea, too, I would that through thy brightest times, Like the sweet burden of remember'd rhymes, That gentle sadness should be with thee, dear; And when the gates of sleep are on thee shut, I would not, even then, it should be mute, But murmur, shell-like, at thy spirit's ear. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A MAN CHILD IS BORN (1809) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS EPITAPH IN BALLADE FORM by FRANCOIS VILLON GENTLEMEN-RANKERS by RUDYARD KIPLING NUPTIAL SLEEP by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG NYMPH GOING TO BED by JONATHAN SWIFT THE LAURELS ARE FELLED by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE AN IRISH FANTASY by JOHN FRANKLIN BLUNT THE STRING AROUND MY FINGER by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |