WHEN I, poor Lais, with my crown Of beauty could laugh Hellas down, Young lovers crowded at my door, Where now my lovers come no more. So, Goddess, you will not refuse A mirror that has now no use; For what I was I cannot be, And what I am I will not see. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BE TRUE [THYSELF] by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR THE FLOWER OF FINAE by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS L'ENVOI: THE RETURN OF THE SIRE DE NESLE, A.D. 16 - by HERMAN MELVILLE ON THE MOOR by ROBERT ADAMSON (1832-) NETLEY ABBEY; A LEGEND OF HAMPSHIRE by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |