A Complaint

Poem By Radclyffe Hall

Oh ! why let all these winged days slip past us!
Will you not give me leave with those dear eyes,
To taste the sweets of our new paradise,
Beyond the outer dark where fate has cast us?

Must we for ever see the golden portal
Yet ne'er in glad abandon enter in?
Dear heart, if loving be so great a sin-
Why have the gods decreed that man be mortal!

And why were you created in their likeness,
And why was I ordained to be your slave,
If in the twilight I must dig a grave,
Wherein to hide my heart from morning's brightness?

I tell you no ! I will not leave untasted
One drop of sweetness life may hold for me:
Who scorns the present for eternity
I count that soul a sorry fool and wasted.

Comments about A Complaint

There is no comment submitted by members.

Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of HALL


Butterfly, butterfly, where are you going?
'Over the roses into the sky.'
Butterfly, butterfly, there is no knowing
When you'll come back again, so good-bye!

Eastnor Churchyard

I BE hopin' you remember,
Now the Spring has come again,
How we used to gather violets
By the Uttle church at Eastnor,

The Malvern Hills

The Malvern Hills be green some days.
And some days purple-blue,
There never was the like of them
The whole of England through.

The First Cuckoo

To-day I heard the cuckoo call.
Atop of Bredon Hill,
I heard him near the blackthorn bush,
And Oh ! my heart stood still !

Dusk In The Lane

Come, put yer little hand in mine.
And let it be at rest.
It minds me of a tired bird
Within a warm brown nest ;

The Meeting Place

I MIND me of the hawthorn trees,
With cuckoos flying near ;
The hawthorn blossoms smelt so sweet,
The cuckoo called so clear !