Love and my selfe (beleeve me) on a day At childish Push-pin (for our sport) did play: I put, he pusht, and heedless of my skin, Love prickt my finger with a golden pin: Since which, it festers so, that I can prove 'Twas but a trick to poyson me with love: Little the wound was; greater was the smart, The finger bled, but burnt was all my heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BALLAD OF HUMAN LIFE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES EL HOMBRE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS ERRING IN COMPANY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS ROSAMOND: KING HENRY'S SONG by JOSEPH ADDISON THE BEACHCOMBER by MILDRED DOSCH BANTA SUNRISE OVER THE SIERRAS by HENRY MEADE BLAND WHO SEEKS THE KING by LARENE KING BLEECKER SPARROWS SELF-DOMESTICATED IN TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE by VINCENT BOURNE |