False Love And True Logic

                THE DISCONSOLATE

My heart will break, I'm sure it will:
    My lover, yes, my favorite, he
Who seemed my own through good and ill,
    Has basely turned his back on me.

                THE COMFORTER

Ah! silly sorrower, weep no more;
    Your lover's turned his back, we see;
But you had turned his head before,
    And now he's as he ought to be.

Samuel Laman Blanchard

Samuel Laman Blanchard was an English author, poet, and journalist born on May 15, 1804. He is remembered particularly for his close association with literary and journalistic circles in London. He contributed to various periodicals, including The Monthly Magazine and The Examiner. His works include essays, poems, and a notable biography of the actress Fanny Kelly. He passed away on February 15, 1845.

Samuel Laman Blanchard

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Lover Who Thinks.

Dost thou remember, Love, those hours
Shot o'er with random rainy showers,
When the bold sun would woo coy May?
She smiled, then wept - and looked another way.

We, learning from the sun and season,
Together plotted joyous treason
'Gainst maiden majesty, to give
Each other troth, and henceforth wedded live.

But love, ah, love we know is blind!
Not always what they seek they find
When, groping through dim-lighted natures,
Fond lovers look for old, ideal statures.

What then? Is all our purpose lost?
The balance broken, since Fate tossed
Uneven weights? Oh well beware
That thought, my sweet: 't were neither fit nor fair!

Seek not for any grafted fruits
From souls so wedded at the roots;
But whatsoe'er our fibres hold,
Let tha...

George Parsons Lathrop

The Deserted Bride.

Suggested by a scene in the play of the hunchback.


Inscribed to James Sheridan Knowles.




"Love me!--No.--He never loved me!"
Else he'd sooner die than stain
One so fond as he has proved me
With the hollow world's disdain.
False one, go--my doom is spoken,
And the spell that bound me broken.

Wed him!--Never.--He has lost me!--
Tears!--Well, let them flow!--His bride?
No.--The struggle life may cost me!
But he'll find that I have pride!
Love is not an idle flower,
Blooms and dies the self-same hour.

Title, land, and broad dominion,
With himself to me he gave;
Stooped to earth his spirit's pinion,
And became my willing slave!
Knelt and prayed until he won me--
Looks he coldly upon me?

Ingrat...

George Pope Morris

Man's Devotion

A lover said, "O Maiden, love me well,
For I must go away:
And should ANOTHER ever come to tell
Of love - What WILL you say?"

And she let fall a royal robe of hair
That folded on his arm
And made a golden pillow for her there;
Her face - as bright a charm

As ever setting held in kingly crown -
Made answer with a look,
And reading it, the lover bended down,
And, trusting, "kissed the book."

He took a fond farewell and went away.
And slow the time went by -
So weary - dreary was it, day by day
To love, and wait, and sigh.

She kissed his pictured face sometimes, and said:
    "O Lips, so cold and dumb,
I would that you would tell me, if not dead,
    Why, why do you not come?"

The picture, smiling, stared her in t...

James Whitcomb Riley

Betrayed

    Dream not of love, to think it like
    What waking love may prove to be,
    For I dreamed so and broke my heart,
    When my false lover slighted me.

    Love, like to flowers, is sweet when green;
    The rose in bud aye best appears;
    And she that loves a handsome man
    Should have more wit than she has years.

    I put my finger in a bush,
    Thinking the sweeter rose to find;
    I pricked my finger to the bone,
    And left the sweetest rose behind.

    I threw a stone into the sea,
    And deep it sunk into the sand,
    And so did my poor heart in me
    When my false lover left the land.

    I watched the sun an hour too soon
    Set into clouds behind the town;
    So my false lover left, and said
   ...

John Clare

The Face At The Casement

    If ever joy leave
An abiding sting of sorrow,
So befell it on the morrow
    Of that May eve . . .

    The travelled sun dropped
To the north-west, low and lower,
The pony's trot grew slower,
    And then we stopped.

    "This cosy house just by
I must call at for a minute,
A sick man lies within it
    Who soon will die.

    "He wished to marry me,
So I am bound, when I drive near him,
To inquire, if but to cheer him,
    How he may be."

    A message was sent in,
And wordlessly we waited,
Till some one came and stated
    The bulletin.

    And that the sufferer said,
For her call no words could thank her;
As his angel he must rank her
    Till life's spark fled.

    Slowly we dro...

Thomas Hardy

Love's Doubt.

'Tis love that blinds my heart and eyes, -
    I sometimes say in doubting dreams, -
    The face that near me perfect seems
Cold Memory paints in fainter dyes.

'Twas but love's dazzled eyes - I say -
    That made her seem so strangely bright;
    The face I worshipped yesternight,
I dread to meet it changed to-day.

As, when dies out some song's refrain,
    And leaves your eyes in happy tears,
    Awake the same fond idle fears, -
It cannot sound so sweet again.

You wait and say with vague annoy,
    "It will not sound so sweet again,"
    Until comes back the wild refrain
That floods your soul with treble joy.

So when I see my love again
    Fades the unquiet doubt away,
    While shines her beauty like the day
Over my...

John Hay