LO! I have suffered deeply In passion and in pain; The fruits of life have tasted, I will not taste again. Where sang the birds in summer— Where bloomed the flowers in June, The winter snows are drifting Beneath the silver moon. The golden lights are darkened, The harp's sweet sounds are o'er, The singing times are ended, They will return no more. The flowers were bruised in anger, The grapes were crushed in vain, There came no wine of laughter From out the fruit of pain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWENTY-FOUR HOKKU ON A MODERN THEME by AMY LOWELL CONTRA MORTEM: THE WOMAN'S GENITALS by HAYDEN CARRUTH OUR CAMP; IN THE AUTUMN WOODS by ROBERT FROST POETRY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON FRAGMENT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |