Verse > William Wordsworth > Complete Poetical Works
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A COMPLAINT

          THERE is a change--and I am poor;
          Your love hath been, not 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,                       10
          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.
                                                              1806.


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