Fond man, that canst believe her blood Will from those purple chanels flow; Or that the pure untainted flood Can any foule distemper know; Or that thy weake steele can incize The Crystall case, wherein it lyes. Know; her quick blood, proud of his seat, Runs dauncing through her azure veines; Whose harmony no cold, nor heat Disturbs, whose hue no tincture staines; And the hard rock wherein it dwells, The keenest darts of Love repels. But thou reply'st, behold she bleeds; Foole, thou'rt deceivd; and dost not know The mystique knot whence this proceeds, How Lovers in each other grow; Thou struckst her arme, but 'twas my heart Shed all the blood, felt all the smart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RIVER by RALPH WALDO EMERSON SANCTUARY by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY VETERAN SIRENS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON QUATRAIN: FROM EASTERN SOURCES: 1 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH TENNYSON by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH STANZAS SELECTED FROM THE PAINS OR MEMORY; A FRAGMENT by BERNARD BARTON |