What recks the sun how weep the heavy flowers
All the sad night, when he is far away?
What recks he how they mourn, through those dark hours,
Till back again he leads the smiling day?
As lifts each watery bloom its tearful eye,
And blesses from its lowly seat, the God,
In his great glory he goes through the sky,
And recks not of the blessing from the sod.
And what is it to thee, O thou, my fate!
That all my hope and joy remains with thee?
That thy departing leaves me desolate,
That thy returning brings back life to me?
I blame not thee, for all the strife and woe,
That for thy sake daily disturb my life,
I blame not thee, that heaven has made me so,
That all the love I can, is woe and strife.
I blame not thee, that I may ne’er impart
The tempest, and the death, and the despair,
That words and looks of thine make in my heart,
And, turn by turn, riot and stagnate there.
Oh! I have found my sin’s sharp scourge in thee,
For loving thee, as one should love but Heaven;
Therefore, O thou beloved! I blame not thee,
But by my anguish hope to be forgiven.
(Frances Anne Kemble)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, God Poems, Life Poems, Night Poems, Sadness Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Heaven Poems, Smiling Poems, Fate & Destiny Poems, Blessings PoemsBased on Keywords: stagnate, recks