BEFORE me, careless lying, Young Love his ware comes crying: Full soon the elf untreasures His pack of pains and pleasures, -- With roguish eye, He bids me buy From out his pack of treasures. His wallet's stuffed with blisses, With true-love-knots and kisses, With rings and rosy fetters, And sugared vows and letters; -- He holds them out With boyish flout, And bids me try the fetters. Nay, Child (I cry), I know them; There's little need to show them! Too well for new believing I know their past deceiving, -- I am too old (I say), and cold, To-day, for new believing! But still the wanton presses, With honey-sweet caresses, And still, to my undoing, He wins me, with his wooing, To buy his ware With all its care, Its sorrow and undoing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRAGMENT, ON THE BACK OF THE POET'S MS. OF CANTO I OF 'DON JUAN' by GEORGE GORDON BYRON BATTLE SONG by EBENEZER ELLIOTT TO LIZBIE BROWNE by THOMAS HARDY SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: LUCINDA MATLOCK by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE LAMENTATION OF THE OLD PENSIONER (2) by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |