What torture lurks¹ within a single thought
When grown too constant, and however kind,
However welcome still, the weary mind
Aches with its presence.  Dull remembrance taught
Remembers on unceasingly; unsought
The old delight is with us but to find
That all recurring² joy is pain refined,
Become a habit, and we struggle, caught.
You lie upon my heart as on a nest,
Folded in peace, for you can never know
How crushed I am with having you at rest
Heavy upon my life.  I love you so
You bind³ my freedom from its rightful quest.
In mercy lift your drooping⁴ wings and go.

上一篇：Amy Lowell - To a Friend 下一篇：Amy Lowell - Dreams