Yearn thou may'st: Thou shalt not see My wasting love For thee. Lean thy tresses; Fair that fruit; Slim as warbling bird's Thy throat. Peep thou then: Doubt not some swain Will of thy still decoy Be fain. But I? In sooth -- Nay, gaze thy fill! Scorn thee I must, And will. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 25 by THOMAS CAMPION HYMN OF THE WEST by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN ANTIQUE JEWELER by FREDERICK HENRY HERBERT ADLER STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF SIR SAMUEL ROMILLY by BERNARD BARTON VERSES TO -- --, ON THE FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF THEIR MARRIAGE by BERNARD BARTON |