William Wordsworth: A Complaint

W i l l i a m   W o r d s w o r t h

(1770-1850)

A  C o m p l a i n t

 

There is a change–and I am poor;

Your Love hath been, nor long ago,

A Fountain at my fond Heart’s door,

Whose only business was to flow;

And flow it did; not taking heed

Of its own bounty, or my need.

 

What happy moments did I count!

Bless’d was I then all bliss above!

Now, for this consecrated Fount

Of murmuring, sparkling, living love,

What have I? shall I dare to tell?

A comfortless, and hidden WELL.

 

A Well of love–it may be deep–

I trust it is, and never dry:

What matter? if the Waters sleep

In silence and obscurity.

–Such change, and at the very door

Of my fond Heart, hath made me poor.

 

William Wordsworth poetry

kempis poetry magazine

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