Love bade me aske a gift, And I no more did move, But this, that I might shift Still with my clothes, my Love: That favour granted was; Since which, though I love many, Yet so it comes to passe, That long I love not any. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHRISTUS CONSOLATOR by ROSSITER WORTHINGTON RAYMOND PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 57. AL-HAMID by EDWIN ARNOLD ECHO by AULUS LICINIUS ARCHIAS MANCHESTER BY NIGHT by MATHILDE BLIND THE SURVIVAL by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN KARSHISH, THE ARAB PHYSICIAN by ROBERT BROWNING REMARKS ON DR. BROWN'S 'ESTIMATE OF THE MANNERS OF THE TIMES' by JOHN BYROM |