DEAR @3Love,@1 thou needst not send a Dart To finde the bottome of my Hart: Tis found allready by that Spear Whose barbarous Point thine own did tear. It tore ope thine; And therefore mine, In which Thou, since Thou mad'st & bought'st it, by That double Title hast more right then I. 2 To thy Hearts woefull Outcry, my Wounds gapeing Mouth makes its reply: Thy Clamor streameth in a flood Of rueful Water & of Blood; And much like this My answer is; For through mine Eys the dutefull Waters gush, The burning Blood flows in my guilty Blush. 3 My guilty Blush; for I am He Who helpd to thrust that Spear at Thee: I helpd to thrust it, & the Blow Upon my Self reboundeth now. Yet must I joy In this Annoy; For though thy Death be proved by that Wound, Thy Life is ratified by the Rebound. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HEGIRA by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON CHILD MARGARET by CARL SANDBURG AFTER A VISIT by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SHUT OUT THAT MOON by THOMAS HARDY CALDWELL OF SPRINGFIELD [JUNE 23, 1780] by FRANCIS BRET HARTE THE BROOK; AN IDYL: THE BROOK'S SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON CHRISTMAS, 1917 by BRENT DOW ALLINSON THE RHYME OF SIR LAUNCELOT BOGLE; A LEGEND OF GLASGOW by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |