I MAKE no war, and yet no peace have found, With heat I melt, when starv'd to death with cold. I soar to Heav'n, while grovelling on the ground, Embrace the world, yet nothing do I hold. I'm not confin'd, yet cannot I depart, Nor loose the chain, tho' not a captive led; Love kills me not, yet wounds me to the heart, Will neither have m' alive, nor have me dead. Being blind, I see; not having voice, I cry: I wish for Death, while I of Life make choice; I hate myself, yet love you tenderly; Do feed of tears, and in my grief rejoice. Thus, Cynthia, all my health is but disease; Both life and death do equally displease. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SLAVE TRADE: VIEW FROM THE MIDDLE PASSAGE by CLARENCE MAJOR TO ALTHEA, FROM PRISON by RICHARD LOVELACE THE DEFINITION OF LOVE by ANDREW MARVELL TO THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE, IN NEW-ENGLAND by PHILLIS WHEATLEY TIPPERARY: 4. BY OUR OWN A. E. HOUSMAN by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 18. AL-RAZZAK by EDWIN ARNOLD POLYHYMNIA: DEDICATION TO THE COUNTESS OF LINDSEY by WILLIAM BASSE |