Explore "Despair" by Paul Bewsher on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The long and tedious months move slowly by / And February's chill has fled away / Before the gales of March, and now e'en they / Have died upon the peaceful April sky: / And still I sadly wander, still I sigh, / And all the splendour of each Springtime day / Is dyed, for me, one melancholy grey, / And all its beauty can but make me cry.
For thou art silent, Oh! far distant friend, / And not one word has come to cheer my heart / Through these sad months, which seem to have no end, / So distant seems the day which bade us part! / Oh speak! dear fair-haired angel! Spring has smiled, / And I despair -- a broken-hearted child.