William Wordsworth (1770-1850 / Cumberland / England)
Poems by William Wordsworth : 2 / 388
A Complaint
There is a change--and I am poor;
Your love hath been, nor long ago,
A fountain at my fond heart's door,
Whose only business was to flow;
And flow it did; not taking heed
Of its own bounty, or my need.
What happy moments did I count!
Blest was I then all bliss above!
Now, for that consecrated fount
Of murmuring, sparkling, living love,
What have I? Shall I dare to tell?
A comfortless and hidden well.
A well of love--it may be deep--
I trust it is,--and never dry:
What matter? If the waters sleep
In silence and obscurity.
--Such change, and at the very door
Of my fond heart, hath made me poor.
William Wordsworth
Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003
Read poems about / on: change, trust, silence, happy, sleep, heart, love, water
Poems by William Wordsworth : 2 / 388
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Love hinted at and hopefully received, enriching his senses. Then blowing cold. He is still hopeful but mixed with doubt and deep feeling of heartache and loss. No longer feeling the richness of the tingling a of shining new love. Thus feeling poor. Heartache and longing.
I love this poem. It is becoz most of the meanings of this poem are similar with my situation. Realistic William, classic output.
Very funny poem! But it has a sad story for us, though.
A nice poem that is rich in language along with expression and rhymes. I love it very much.
i feel we can consider him a champion of nature, colourful nerration.