Classic and Contemporary Poetry
A CONFESSION, by JULIET H. CAMPBELL Poet's Biography First Line: They are not tears of sorrowing Last Line: It had not felt thy love! Alternate Author Name(s): Lewis, Juliet H. Subject(s): Thanksgiving | ||||||||
THEY are not tears of sorrowing, Then, dearest, chide me not! I weep with very thankfulness, For this, my blessed lot. I think me of the rose-hued past, And tears will fall like rain; I turn me to my present bliss, And forth they gush again. The past, the sunny past was like A glorious dream to me, The earth was as a fairy land, And fairy creatures we. The hours went by as angels would When forced from heaven to roam; Each gave a blessing as it past, And hasten'd to its home. The memories of those vanish'd hours Throng round me like a spell, And charm these drops of tenderness Up from their secret cell. Yet, love, I would not barter now The luxury of these tears, For all the joys that woo my thoughts Back to those by-gone years! For though my heart, blithe as a bird, From flower to flower would rove, It had not known thy tenderness, It had not felt thy love! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CULTURE OF GLASS by THYLIAS MOSS THE NIGHT BEFORE THANKSGIVING by NORMAN DUBIE OUR PRAYER OF THANKS by CARL SANDBURG THANKSGIVING DAY by LYDIA MARIA CHILD XAIPE: 65 by EDWARD ESTLIN CUMMINGS THE OL' TUNES by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR A THANKSGIVING TO GOD [FOR HIS HOUSE] by ROBERT HERRICK |
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