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.

Analysis, meaning and summary of Edgar Allan Poe's poem To M–

1 Comment

  1. Charles says:

    Dearest, if you see this you’ll know that this was the poem I wanted to guide you too but was too cowardly, as what it expresses touches too close to my own truth- a truth which I believe you perceived, but which did not frighten you away. Forgive me for letting us both down. I miss you, Meg.

    C

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