DEAR Kate, I do not swear and rave, Or sigh sweet things as many can; But though my lip ne'er plays the slave, My @3heart@1 will not disgrace the @3man@1. I prize thee -- ay, my bonnie Kate, So firmly fond this breast can be, That I would brook the sternest fate If it but left me health and thee. I do not promise that our life Shall know no shade on heart or brow, For human lot and mortal strife Would mock the falsehood of such vow. But when the clouds of pain and care Shall teach us we are not divine, My deepest sorrows thou shalt share, And I will strive to lighten thine. We love each other, yet perchance The murmurs of dissent may rise; Fierce words may chase the tender glance And angry flashes light our eyes. But we must learn to check the frown, To reason rather than to blame; The wisest have their faults to own, And you and I, girl, have the same. You must not like me less, my Kate, For such an honest strain as this; I love @3thee@1 dearly, but I hate The puling rhymes of "kiss" and "bliss." There's truth in all I've said or sung; I woo thee as a man @3should@1 woo; And though I lack a honey'd tongue, Thou'lt never find a breast more true. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEATH OF A PHOTOGRAPHER by KAREN SWENSON AN ODE, PARAPHRASED: THE CUP by ANACREON THE SCHOLAR GIPSY by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE FEMALE CONVICT by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON DRINKING ODE by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE A MEMORY by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE TO THE IMMORTAL MEMORY MEMORY OF THE FAIREST AND MOST VIRTUOUS LADY by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |