Şiir Başlığı: To M--

To M--

Şair: Edgar Allan Poe • Eklenme Tarihi: 25.05.2014 • Görüntüleme: 2.382

Özet:
O! I care not that my earthly lot
Hath little of Earth in it,
That years of love have been forgot
In the fever of a minute:

Kelimeler:
Edgar Allan Poe, To M--, American author, poet, editor and literary critic, American Romantic Movement, Amerikalı yazar, şair, editör ve edebiyat eleştirmeni, Amerikan romantik akımı.

To M--

O! I care not that my earthly lot
Hath little of Earth in it,
That years of love have been forgot
In the fever of a minute:

I heed not that the desolate
Are happier, sweet, than I,
But that you meddle with my fate
Who am a passer by.

It is not that my founts of bliss
Are gushing- strange! with tears-
Or that the thrill of a single kiss
Hath palsied many years-

'Tis not that the flowers of twenty springs
Which have wither'd as they rose
Lie dead on my heart-strings
With the weight of an age of snows.

Not that the grass- O! may it thrive!
On my grave is growing or grown-
But that, while I am dead yet alive
I cannot be, lady, alone.