In silence and tears,
Half broken hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew they cheek and cold,
Colder they kiss
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.
The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow--
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is they fame;
I hear they names spoken,
And share in its shame.
They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shrudder comes o'er me--
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee so well--
Long, long I shall rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.
In secret we met--
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?
With Silence ad tears.
3 comments:
Oh man, I'm glad you posted that poem. I went through a quick (but intense) Byron phase in high school, mainly because he was an odd character and wrote on morose themes. Eventually, I moved onto Baudelaire in college, which I think is a natural progression.
So this was a nice flash to the past. I'm curious to know more about why you posted it.
Ditto. Why the poem?
Sadly, the only reason I know the name Baudelaire is because of A Series of Unfortunate Events. And everyone talks about Byron, but I haven't read anything by him (well, now I have I guess). I'll look them both up now, though!
The poem is my show and tell for description. To me it describes the sorrow and pain of love. Love is not always so beautiful. I read this poem when I was 10 years old and have always loved it.
Post a Comment