LO, I the man that whilom lov'd and lost, Not dreading loss, do sing again of love; And like a man but lately tempest-toss'd, Try if my stars still inauspicious prove: Not to make good that poets never can Long time without a chosen mistress be, Do I sing thus; or my affections ran Within the maze of mutability; What last I lov'd was beauty of the mind, And that lodg'd in a temple truly fair, Which ruin'd now by death, if I can find The saint that liv'd therein some otherwhere, I may adore it there, and love the cell For entertaining what I lov'd so well. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BLUEBEARD'S CLOSET by ROSE TERRY COOKE THE NIGHTINGALE by PHILIP SIDNEY ON A BEAUTIFUL DAY by JOHN STERLING (1806-1844) ORANGE BUDS BY MAIL FROM FLORIDA by WALT WHITMAN SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 14. 'I LOVE THEE' by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |