William Cosmo Monkhouse
WHO calls me bold because I won my love,
And did not pine,
And waste my life with secret pain, but strove
To make him mine?
I us’d no arts; ’t was Nature’s self that taught
My eye to speak,
And bid the burning blush to paint unsought
My flashing cheek;
That made my voice to tremble when I bid
My love “Goodby,”
So weak that every other sound was hid,
Except a sigh.
Oh, was it wrong to use the truth I knew,
That hearts are mov’d,
And spring warm-struck with life and love anew,
By being lov’d?
One night there came a tear, that, big and loth,
Stole ’neath my brow.
’T was thus I won my heart’s own heart, and both
Are happy now.
William Cosmo Monkhouse's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Song by William Cosmo Monkhouse )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Georgetown U.S.A., Radclyffe Hall
- Interior Sensations, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- கொல்லும் போர்க்களம்!, Dr.V.K. Kanniappan
- No Use Sighin', Edgar Albert Guest
- The Way It Sometimes Is, Henry Splawn Taylor
- The Furnace Door, Edgar Albert Guest
- When Mother Made An Angel Cake, Edgar Albert Guest
- Sunday In Liguria, Radclyffe Hall
- Money, Edgar Albert Guest
- Ironic Love, RoseAnn V. Shawiak