Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

(22 March 1808 – 15 June 1877 / London)

Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton Poems

81. The Lady Of La Garaye - Conclusion 4/15/2010
82. The Lady Of La Garaye - Dedication 4/15/2010
83. The Lady Of La Garaye - Part I 4/15/2010
84. The Lady Of La Garaye - Part Ii 4/15/2010
85. The Lady Of La Garaye - Part Iii 4/15/2010
86. The Lady Of La Garaye - Part Iv 4/15/2010
87. The Lady Of La Garaye - Prologue 4/15/2010
88. The Lament For Shuil Donald’s Daughter 4/15/2010
89. The Lost One 4/15/2010
90. The Mother’s Heart 4/15/2010
91. The Mother’s Last Watch 4/15/2010
92. The Mourners 4/15/2010
93. The Name 4/15/2010
94. The Picture Of Sappho 4/15/2010
95. The Pilgrim Of Life. 4/15/2010
96. The Poet’s Choice 4/15/2010
97. The Poplar Field 4/15/2010
98. The Rebel 4/15/2010
99. The Reprieve 4/15/2010
100. The Ringlet 4/15/2010
101. The Rock Of The Betrayed 4/15/2010
102. The Sense Of Beauty 4/15/2010
103. The Tryst 4/15/2010
104. The Undying One' - Canto I 4/15/2010
105. The Undying One - Canto Ii 4/15/2010
106. The Undying One - Canto Iv 4/15/2010
107. The Undying One- Canto Iii 4/15/2010
108. The Visionary Portrait 4/15/2010
109. The Wanderer Looking Into Other Homes 4/15/2010
110. The Widow To Her Son’s Betrothed 4/15/2010
111. The Winter’s Walk 4/15/2010
112. They Loved One Another 4/15/2010
113. To Ferdinand Seymour 4/15/2010
114. To The Lady H.O. 4/15/2010
115. Twilight 4/15/2010
116. We Have Been Friends Together 1/1/2004
117. Weep Not For Him That Dieth 4/15/2010
118. When Poor In All But Hope And Love 4/15/2010
119. Would I Were With Thee! 4/15/2010
Best Poem of Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

I Do Not Love Thee

I DO not love thee! - no! I do not love thee!
And yet when thou art absent I am sad;
   And envy even the bright blue sky above thee,
Whose quiet stars may see thee and be glad.

   I do not love thee! - yet, I know not why,
Whate'er thou dost seems still well done, to me:
   And often in my solitude I sigh
That those I do love are not more like thee!

   I do not love thee! - yet, when thou art gone,
I hate the sound (though those who speak be dear)
   Which breaks the lingering echo of the tone
Thy voice of music leaves upon my ear. ...

Read the full of I Do Not Love Thee

Love Not

LOVE not, love not! ye hapless sons of clay!
Hope’s gayest wreaths are made of earthly flowers—
Things that are made to fade and fall away
Ere they have blossom’d for a few short hours.
Love not!

Love not! the thing ye love may change:
The rosy lip may cease to smile on you,
The kindly-beaming eye grow cold and strange,

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