Shall I confess my love? No, no – it will not do; Not while Uncertainty Can keep a woman true. She shall not know that I, Being absolutely won, Release her thousand charms For something new in man. So let the game go on, Which Love calls 'Yes or No,' Till Death says, 'Come with me – Come to a quiet show.' Where she, or I, alone, Inside the cold, black vault, Train worms to skip a hair, And make a somersault. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NIGHTFALL IN DORDRECHT by EUGENE FIELD GEORGE MOSES HORTON, MYSELF by GEORGE MOSES HORTON DEATH STANDS ABOVE ME by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR PROUD MAISIE, FR. THE HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN by WALTER SCOTT PORTRAIT OF A LADY by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS ON THE STATUE OF AN ANGEL, BY BIENAIME by WASHINGTON ALLSTON |