Love, the wild fowler, spreads his nets with care, And deep-toned warning both our hearts have heard, Even as the old-time low-bell held each bird Suddenly trembling, nestling pair by pair Dark in the covert, till a blinding glare Of torchlight and a clamorous shouted word Dazed their bright eyes, and terrified wings upwhirred To baffled blundering in the close-drawn snare. So, sweet, we cower at our warning bell. Creep close to me, where shadows gird us round. Fear we that wild revealment? Nay, not we! "Ah, perilous play, to cross Love's stalking-ground!" You whisper . . . yet our eyes, our eyes could tell Of hearts that leap to meet their certainty! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOST SHEEP by SARAH PRATT MCCLAIN GREENE MY LITTLE DREAMS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE OLD FLUTE by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER EPILOGUE TO LESSING'S LAOCOON by MATTHEW ARNOLD ECHO by AULUS LICINIUS ARCHIAS THE COMET by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES REQUIESCAT by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON APRIL by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON THREE EPISTLES TO G. LLOYD ON A PASSAGE FROM HOMER'S ILIAD: 3 by JOHN BYROM |