Love scorns that Love implore you To bind his hurts or heal; Prays only, arm around you, To draw on hours that hound you, To whirl his sword before you And fence your path with steel. Not for the beauty of you, The peace of all your ways, He burns, -- but in your quarrel To hold the pass of peril, To stand at arms above you Against embattled days. No comfort for his blundering He cries your heart to yield, But that his arm enfold you, His shield-arm shield and hold you Safe, while the foe charge thundering, -- His sword against the field! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEGY: THE GHOST WHOSE LIPS WERE WARM; FOR GEOFFREY GORER by EDITH SITWELL AFTER THE QUARREL by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR HYSTERIA by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT LONDON CHURCHES by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES GOOD LUCK by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS |