MY Love has sicklied unto Loath, And foul seems all that fair I fancied -- The lily's sheen's a leprous growth, The very buttercups are rancid. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 4. CAPRI by SARA TEASDALE MY LITTLE DREAMS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE ENTHUSIAST by HERMAN MELVILLE A HIGH-TONED OLD CHRISTIAN WOMAN by WALLACE STEVENS EPITAPH ON FRANCIS CHARTRES by JOHN ARBUTHNOT LINES TO ROBERT ALDERSON UPON HIS DEPARTURE FROM WARRINGTON by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |