Because I oft, in dark, abstracted guise, Seem most alone in greatest company, With dearth of words, or answers quite awry, To them that would make speech of speech arise, They deem, and of that doom the rumour flies, That poison foul of bubbling pride doth lie So in my swelling breast, that only I Fawn on myself, and others do despise. Yet pride, I think, doth not my soul possess, Which looks too oft in his unflatt'ring glass; But one worse fault, ambition, I confess, That makes me oft my best friends overpass, Unseen, unheard, while thought to highest place Bends all his powers, even unto Stella's grace. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RAINY SEASON by CLARENCE MAJOR MY MOTHER LEFT ME by KAREN SWENSON THE BOBOLINKS by CHRISTOPHER PEARSE CRANCH TWELVE SONNETS: 11. FIRST, BATTLE; THEN, WOMAN by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) URANIA; THE WOMAN IN THE MOON: DEDICATION TO HENRY, PRINCE OF WALES by WILLIAM BASSE |