Poem Lake | Page 6 | The Greatest Poems of All Time

Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it, Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it, Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee, Proud of my night, since thou with moons dost slake it, Not to partake thy passion, my humility. Thou can'st not boast,... Poet:	Sang from the Heart, Sire, Sang from the Heart, Sire, Dipped my Beak in it, If the Tune drip too much Have a tint too Red Pardon the Cochineal — Suffer the Vermillion — Death is the Wealth Of the Poorest Bird.... Poet:	Sometimes with the Heart Sometimes with the Heart Seldom with the Soul Scarcer once with the Might Few — love at all. Poet:	Sweet Pirate of the heart, Sweet Pirate of the heart, Not Pirate of the Sea, What wrecketh thee? Some spice's Mutiny — Some Attar's perfidy? Confide in me. Poet:
Sweet Skepticism of the Heart — Sweet Skepticism of the Heart — That knows — and does not know — And tosses like a Fleet of Balm — Affronted by the snow — Invites and then retards the Truth Lest Certainty be sere Compared with the... Poet:	The healed Heart shows its shallow scar The healed Heart shows its shallow scar With confidential moan — Not mended by Mortality Are Fabrics truly torn — To go its convalescent way So shameless is to see More genuine were Perfidy ... Poet:	The Heart asks Pleasure — first — The heart asks pleasure first, And then, excuse from pain ; And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering ; And then, to go to sleep ;... Poet:	The Heart has many Doors — The Heart has many Doors — I can but knock — For any sweet "Come in" Impelled to hark — Not saddened by repulse, Repast to me That somewhere, there exists, Supremacy — Poet:
The Heart has narrow Banks The Heart has narrow Banks It measures like the Sea In mighty — unremitting Bass And Blue Monotony Till Hurricane bisect And as itself discerns Its insufficient Area The Heart convulsive... Poet:	The Heart is the Capital of the Mind — The Heart is the Capital of the Mind — The Mind is a single State — The Heart and the Mind together make A single Continent — One — is the Population — Numerous enough — This ecstatic Nation ... Poet: