If she but knew that I am weeping Still for her sake, That love and sorrow grow with keeping Till they must break, My heart that breaking will adore her, Be hers and die; If she might hear me once implore her, Would she not sigh? If she but knew that it would save me Her voice to hear, Saying she pitied me, forgave me, Must she forbear? If she were told that I was dying, Would she be dumb? Could she content herself with sighing? Would she not come? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...KATHMANDU GUEST HOUSE by KAREN SWENSON MY DEARLING by ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN AD LESBIAM by GAIUS VALERIUS CATULLUS THE LIVING DEAD by RALPH CHAPLIN THE MOURNING GARMENT: THE DESCRIPTION OF THE SHEPHERD AND HIS WIFE by ROBERT GREENE SONNET: 45 by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY HOW THE CUMBERLAND WENT DOWN [MARCH 8, 1862] by SILAS WEIR MITCHELL |