Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal (25 July 1829 - 11 February 1862 / London / England)
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Worn Out
Thy strong arms are around me, love
My head is on thy breast;
Low words of comfort come from thee
Yet my soul has no rest.
For I am but a startled thing
Nor can I ever be
Aught save a bird whose broken wing
Must fly away from thee.
I cannot give to thee the love
I gave so long ago,
The love that turned and struck me down
Amid the blinding snow.
I can but give a failing heart
And weary eyes of pain,
A faded mouth that cannot smile
And may not laugh again.
Yet keep thine arms around me, love,
Until I fall to sleep;
Then leave me, saying no goodbye
Lest I might wake, and weep.
Read poems about / on: snow, smile, sleep, pain, love, heart
PoemHunter.com Updates
-
Beautiful Paintings On Books
by Ekaterina Panikanova
-
You Too Can Learn to Write Surrealist Poetry
Spudnik Press is offering a workshop in surrealist poetry
-
Distasteful Fashion Shoot Featuring Author Suicides is Pulled
The spread is called 'Last Words.'
-
Autistic Pride Day
June 18
Top 500 Poems
-
Phenomenal Woman
Maya Angelou
-
The Road Not Taken
Robert Frost
-
If You Forget Me
Pablo Neruda
-
Still I Rise
Maya Angelou
-
Dreams
Langston Hughes
-
Annabel Lee
Edgar Allan Poe
-
If
Rudyard Kipling
-
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Robert Frost
-
Invictus
William Ernest Henley
-
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Maya Angelou

I felt the poem's loneliness and heartache. Pretty amazing.
I love the depth and passion you emote with your intrinsic, image painting words
Great write
This comment, I write quietly, lest you wake up and weep again.
Impressed...
Comfort at a tragic moment in life is rare to find! Surely the enjoyer of comfort depicted in the poem is a lucky person though he has nothing to give in return! Love is precious to lose in life more than anything else...! He has love that will bring him all he lost sooner or later in life...!
I think clearly ab out her unfaithful husband, Rosetti.