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.
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William Wordsworth poetry
kempis poetry magazine
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