LET fools great Cupid's yoke disdain, Loving their own wild freedom better; Whilst, proud of my triumphant chain, I sit, and court my beauteous fetter. Her murd'ring glances, snaring hairs, And her bewitching smiles so please me, As he brings ruin, that repairs The sweet afflictions that disease me. Hide not those panting balls of snow With envious veils from my beholding; Unlock those lips, their pearly row In a sweet smile of love unfolding. And let those eyes, whose motion wheels The restless fate of every lover, Survey the pains my sick heart feels, And wounds themselves have made discover. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HE RULETH NOT THROUGH HE RAIGNE OVER REALMES by THOMAS WYATT DITTY IN IMITATION OF THE SPANISH: ENTRE TANTO QUE L'AVRIL by EDWARD HERBERT REVELATION by ROBERT PENN WARREN DISTANCES by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE MAY EVENING by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT EPISTLE TO ROBERT GRAHAM OF FINTRY, REQUESTING A FAVOR by ROBERT BURNS |