[WHICH HAPPENED TO BE HER BIRTHDAY AND NEW YEAR'S DAY] A KNIFE, dear girl, cuts love, they say-- Mere modish love perhaps it may; For any tool of any kind Can separate what was never joined. The knife that cuts our love in two Will have much tougher work to do: Must cut your softness, worth, and spirit Down to the vulgar size of merit; To level yours with common taste, Must cut a world of sense to waste; And from your single beauty's store, Clip what would dizen out a score, The self-same blade from me must sever Sensation, judgement, sight--for ever! All memory of endearments past, All hope of comforts long to last, All that makes fourteen years with you A summer--and a short one too! All that affection feels and fears, When hours, whithout you, seem like years. 'Till that be done,--and I'd as soon Believe this knife would clip the moon,-- Accept my present undeterred, And leave their proverbs to the herd. If in a kiss--delicious treat! Your lips acknowledge the receipt; Love, fond of such substantial fare, And proud to play the glutton there, All thoughts of cutting will disdain, Save only--'cut and come again.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUCOLIC COMEDY: FOX TROT by EDITH SITWELL TROILUS AND CRESSIDA: SONG by JOHN DRYDEN ON A TREE FALLEN ACROSS THE ROAD (TO HEAR US TALK) by ROBERT FROST THE MAN HE KILLED by THOMAS HARDY UPON PRUE, HIS MAID by ROBERT HERRICK GEORGE WASHINGTON by JOHN HALL INGHAM FIRST FIG by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY |