William Ernest Henley

(1849 - 1902 / Gloucester / England)

Poems of William Ernest Henley

161. We Shall Surely Die 4/12/2010
162. We'll go No More A-Roving 4/12/2010
163. What Have I Done For You 4/12/2010
164. What Is To Come 4/12/2010
165. When The Wind Storms By With A Shout 4/12/2010
166. When You Are Old 4/12/2010
167. When You Wake In Your Crib 4/12/2010
168. Where Forlorn Sunsets Flare And Fade 4/12/2010
169. While The West Is Paling 4/12/2010
170. Why, My Heart, Do We Love Her So? 4/12/2010
171. You Played And Sang A Snatch Of Song 4/12/2010
172. Your Heart Has Trembled To My Tongue 4/12/2010

There's a Regret

There's a regret
So grinding, so immitigably sad,
Remorse thereby feels tolerant, even glad. ...
Do you not know it yet?

For deeds undone
Rnakle and snarl and hunger for their due,
Till there seems naught so despicable as you
In all the grin o' the sun.

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