FAR from the fire I burn, and run in vain, Slowly from winged Love, to 'scape the pain; So the swift arrows, flying quick as wind, Wound them that run, when th' archer stays behind. Love, tho' I strive with art to shun the blow, Fiercely assaults my heart where'er I go; As he can best a mortal stroke command, Who has most compass for his striking hand. Hoping to 'scape, I as the bird do fare, That has his foot entangled in a snare; Fears Death, or in a prison to be cast, Flutters its wings, and strives, but still is fast. So I, with all my toil, no ease have got, My struggling does but faster tie the knot, For Cynthia imitating Heaven's swift ray, Near, or at distance, can her flames convey. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMMORTALITY by EMILY DICKINSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: LUCINDA MATLOCK by EDGAR LEE MASTERS I AM THE PEOPLE, THE MOB by CARL SANDBURG A DAY: AN EPISTLE TO JOHN WILKES, OF AYLESBURY, ESQ. by JOHN ARMSTRONG TO MRS W. ON HER EXCELLENT VERSES WRITTEN IN A FIT OF SICKNESS by APHRA BEHN |