Lines On Reading Too Many Poets

Roses, rooted warm in earth,
Bud in rhyme, another age;
Lilies know a ghostly birth
Strewn along a patterned page;
Golden lad and chimbley sweep
Die; and so their song shall keep.

Wind that in Arcadia starts
In and out a couplet plays;
And the drums of bitter hearts
Beat the measure of a phrase.
Sweets and woes but come to print
Quae cum ita sint.

by Dorothy Parker

Comments (3)

Awesome I like this poem, check mine out
This sonnet so beautifully captures that desperate ache one feels in ones soul when apart from his love. Who of us has not felt it? That dreadful sense of helplessness when we desire to always be at our beloved's side, to tend to his every whim, to care for every need? So bound our we, so willingly captive in Love, that the pains of our true love's departure renders from us only a wistful sigh for his return, yet no protest at his leaving because of his sovereignty in our lives, and in our hearts. This is a desperate ache, indeed, and we are powerless to remedy it.
I was recently introduced to Shakespeare's sonnet and this one caught my attention; because partly it is sad, true, and applicable in life...well, long story short(sigh!) This is beautiful choice of words....Praise to Shakspeare! ! !