Come Anthea, know thou this, Love at no time idle is: Let's be doing, though we play But at push-pin (half the day:) Chains of sweet bents let us make, Captive one, or both, to take: In which bondage we will lie, Soules transfusing thus, and die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JONAS KEENE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS AND THEY OBEY by CARL SANDBURG WHAT DOES A WOMAN WANT? by KAREN SWENSON A MOTHER TO HER SICK CHILD by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE BLACK FINGER by ANGELINA WELD GRIMKE |