You run in riddles who would have Love chained, feet bound -- wings clipped -- hot rebel heart subdued to mundane usage -- airy flight constrained, enslaved to whims of panders to the lewd. Still riddling paradox, you then desire this fettered thing to wheel on wings, and soar, bidding this lump to blaze with holy fire -- its vital spark negated at the core ... First you must, Canute-wise, command the free ocean to cease its billowing and swell; prison a flame and quench its ecstasy -- transfix the sun, assuage the pangs of hell -- @3(But snug within all captive fruit is pent what slyly glides, dark disillusionment ......)@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE POET'S SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON CUSTER'S LAST CHARGE [JUNE 25, 1876] by FREDERICK WHITTAKER TO THE LADY PENELOPE RITCH by RICHARD BARNFIELD FIFINE AT THE FAIR by ROBERT BROWNING ON LORD GALLOWAY by ROBERT BURNS A MEMORIAL ABSTRACT OF A SERMON PREACHED ON PROVERBS, XX, 27 by JOHN BYROM |