(TO J. K.) BEFORE thy doors too long of late, O Lyce, I bewail my fate; Not Don's barbarian maids, I trow, Would treat their luckless lovers so; Thou, -- thou alone art obstinate. Hast thou nor eyes nor ears, Ingrate! Hark! how the NORTH WIND shakes thy gate! Look! how the laurels bend with snow Before thy doors! Lay by thy pride, -- nor hesitate, Lest Love and I grow desperate; If prayers, if gifts for naught must go, If naught my frozen pallor show, -- Beware!... I shall not always wait Before thy doors! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO HIS FORSAKEN MISTRESS by ROBERT AYTON THE LITANY: 10. THE MARTYRS by JOHN DONNE THE DEPARTURE OF THE GOOD DAEMON by ROBERT HERRICK HOME by LEONIDAS OF ALEXANDRIA THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 6. THE KISS by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI VENICE by JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS THE HIGH TIDE AT GETTYSBURG [JULY 3, 1863] by WILL HENRY THOMPSON |