Why should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery, or that she would of late
Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
Or hurled the little streets upon the great,
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind
That nobleness made simple as a fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this
Being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done, being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?
About author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: irish
- Born: June 13, 1865
- Died: January 28, 1939
Related Authors
Topics
Quotes currently Trending
Can't you just thank me and get over it?"Thank you." I waited, fuming and expectant."You're not going to let it go, are you?"No."In that case . . . I hope you enjoy disappointment."We scowled at each other in silence. I was the first to speak, trying to keep myself focused. I was in danger of being distracted by his livid, glorious face. It was like trying to stare down a destroying angel."Why did you even bother?" I asked frigidly. He paused, and for a brief moment his stunning face was...
Stephenie Meyer
