Balade*
I cannot tell, of twain beneath this bond, Which one in grief the other goes beyond,--- Narcissus, who to end the pain he bore Died of the love that could not help him more; Or I, that pine because I cannot see The lady who is queen and love to me. Nay--for Narcissus, in the forest pond Seeing his image, made entreaty fond, "Beloved, comfort on my longing pour": So for a while he soothed his passion sore; So cannot I, for all too far is she--- The lady who is queen and love to me. But since that I have Love's true colours donned, I in his service will not now despond, For in extremes Love yet can all restore: So till her beauty walks the world no more All day remembered in my hope shall be The lady who is queen and love to me.
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"I cannot tell, of twain beneath this bond,..."
"Balade*" is a quintessential example of Henry John Newbolt, Sir's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...