A hasty jest I once let fall-
As jests are wont to be, untrue-
As if the sum of joy to you
Were hunt and picnic, rout and ball.
Your eyes met mine: I did not blame;
You saw it: but I touched too near
Some noble nerve; a silent tear
Spoke soft reproach, and lofty shame.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem