Poetry Archives

I would love to have thee near me,
  But when I think how drear
Is each hope that used to cheer me,
  I cease to wish thee here.

I know that thou, wouldst not shrink from
  The storms that burst on me,
But the bitter chalice I drink from,
  I will not pass to thee.

I would share the world with thee, were it
  With all its pleasures mine,
But the sorrows which I inherit,
  I never will make thine!