 | Poems and Translations |  |
38
CRIPPLED.
Trail thy broken pinion, Love!
Bind thine eyes with sorrow:
I, no more thy minion, Love!
Bid thee Good-morrow.
Bind thine eyes with sorrow:
I, no more thy minion, Love!
Bid thee Good-morrow.
Useless to dissemble, Love!
Never can we borrow
Past content: dost tremble? Love!
Bid thee Good-morrow.
Never can we borrow
Past content: dost tremble? Love!
Bid thee Good-morrow.
Limp away! forget me, Love!
I have wed with Sorrow.
My prayers do not let thee, Love!
Bid me Good-morrow!
I have wed with Sorrow.
My prayers do not let thee, Love!
Bid me Good-morrow!
| Poems and Translations | |