Now she burns, as well as I, Yet my heat can never die; She burns that never knew desire, She that was ice, she now is fire. She whose cold heart chaste thoughts did arm So as Love's flames could never warm The frozen bosom where it dwelt, She burns, and all her beauties melt. She burns, and cries, "Love's fires are mild; Fevers are God's, and he's a child." Love, let her know the difference 'Twixt the heat of soul and sense: Touch her with thy flames divine, So shalt thou quench her fire, and mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MODERN LOVE: 47 by GEORGE MEREDITH OF THE LAST VERSES IN THE BOOK by EDMUND WALLER LYSISTRATA: HYMN OF PEACE; CHORUSES OF ATHENIANS AND SPARTANS by ARISTOPHANES TWELVE SONNETS: 9. WEARINESS by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |