MUST I believe, sweet Cynthia, that the flame Hath light and heat, had I ne'er felt the same? Must I believe the cold and hardest flint (Had I ne'er known't) had fiery sparkles in't? Must I believe the load-stone e'er did draw The steel, when such a thing I never saw? Must I turn Papist by implicit faith, To believe that, which thou, or woman saith? Thou sayest thou lov'st me, but thou dost not show Any the smallest sign that it is so: All emanations of thy soul thou keep'st Retir'd within thy breast, as when thou sleep'st: True love is not a mere intelligence That's metaphysical, for every sense Must see and judge of it; I must avow, That senseless things are kinder far than thou: Thou neither wilt embrace, nor kiss; thy hand (Unless I kiss it) doth each touch withstand: Learn therefore of the flame not to profess Thou lov'st, unless thou love in act express: Learn of the flint which being once calcin'd, Becomes a white soft cement, that will bind Learn of the load-stone, let it teach thy heart Not only to draw lovers, but impart Thy favours to them; let thy servants feel Thy love, who are more sensible then steel | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SEA-MEW by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING SONNET (ON AN OLD BOOK WITH UNCUT LEAVES) by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD by THEODORE O'HARA EXTEMPORE EFFUSION UPON THE DEATH OF JAMES HOGG by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH SPANISH WINGS: A LEAF FROM A LOG BOOK by H. BABCOCK IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |