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!
Blest was I then all bliss above!
Now, for that 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.
A Complaint
William Wordsworth
(2)
Poem topics: happy, never, silence, sleep, trust, hidden, fountain, deep, long, business, obscurity, matter, change, heart, poor, door, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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