OH, Anne! your offences to me have been grievous; I thought from my wrath no atonement could save you; But woman is made to command and deceive us -- I look'd in your face, and I almost forgave you. I vow'd I could ne'er for a moment respect you, Yet thought that a day's separation was long: When we met, I determined again to suspect you -- Your smile soon convinced me suspicion was wrong. I swore, in a transport of young indignation, With fervent contempt evermore to disdain you: I saw you -- my anger became admiration; And now, all my wish, all my hope 's to regain you. With beauty like yours, oh, how vain the contention, Thus lowly I sue for forgiveness before you; -- At once to conclude such a fruitless dissension, Be false, my sweet Anne, when I cease to adore you! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE POET AND THE BABY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR TO AMERICA by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON ON A CERTAIN LADY AT COURT by ALEXANDER POPE MOLLY PITCHER [JUNE 28, 1778] by LAURA ELIZABETH HOWE RICHARDS TO THE MAN-OF-WAR-BIRD by WALT WHITMAN SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 38. THE RETREAT FROM MOSCOW by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |