I on my horse, and Love on me, doth try Our horsemanships, while by strange work I prove A horseman to my horse, a horse to Love, And now man's wrongs in me, poor beast, descry. The reins wherewith my rider doth me tie Are humbled thoughts, which bit of reverence move, Curbed in with fear, but with gilt boss above Of hope, which makes it seem fair to the eye. The wand is will; thou, fancy, saddle art, Girt fast by memory; and while I spur My horse, he spurs with sharp desire my heart; He sits me fast, however I do stir; And now hath made me to his hand so right That in the manage myself takes delight. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AUTUMN MOVEMENT by CARL SANDBURG IMITATION OF POPE: A COMPLIMENT TO THE LADIES by WILLIAM BLAKE OF A BAD SINGER; EPIGRAM by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE SONNET: 110 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE FOR THE INAUGURATION OF A PUBLIC SCHOOL, CAMDEN, NEW JERSEY by WALT WHITMAN |