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More poems by John MontagueJohn Montague | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by John MontagueBooks by John Montague

No Music

John Montague

I'll tell you a sore truth, little understood
It's harder to leave, than to be left:
To stay, to leave, both sting wrong.

You will always have me to blame,
Can dream we might have sailed on;
        From absence's rib, a warm fiction.

To tear up old love by the roots,
To trample on past affections:
There is no music for so harsh a song.


Anonymous submission.

Added: 1 Apr 2002 | Last Read: 19 Jan 2018 12:13 PM | Viewed: 4508 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/4318/ | Viewed on 19 January 2018.
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