Frances Anne Kemble

(27 November 1809 - 15 January 1893 / London, England)

My Love - Poem by Frances Anne Kemble

There's not a fibre in my trembling frame
That does not vibrate when thy step draws near,
There's not a pulse that throbs not when I hear
Thy voice, thy breathing, nay thy very name.
When thou art with me every sense seems dim,
And all I am, or know, or feel is thee;
My soul grows faint, my veins run liquid flame,
And my bewildered spirit seems to swim
In eddying whirls of passion, dizzily.

When thou art gone, there creeps into my heart
A cold and bitter consciousness of pain:
The light, the warmth of life with thee depart,
And I sit dreaming over and over again
Thy greeting clasp, thy parting look and tone;
And suddenly I wake--and am alone.


Comments about My Love by Frances Anne Kemble

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Monday, September 6, 2010



[Report Error]