But where began the change; and what's my crime? The wretch condemned, who has not been arraigned, Chafes at his sentence. Shall I, unsustained, Drag on Love's nerveless body thro' all time? I must have slept, since now I wake. Prepare, You lovers, to know Love a thing of moods: Not, like hard life, of laws. In Love's deep woods, I dreamt of loyal Life: -- the offence is there! Love's jealous woods about the sun are curled; At least, the sun far brighter there did beam. -- My crime is, that the puppet of a dream, I plotted to be worthy of the world. Oh, had I with my darling helped to mince The facts of life, you still had seen me go With hindward feather and with forward toe, Her much-adored delightful Fairy Prince! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 1 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING LACK OF STEADFASTNESS; BALLAD by GEOFFREY CHAUCER THE AEOLIAN HARP; AT THE SURF INN by HERMAN MELVILLE LETTY'S GLOBE by CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER SHAKESPEARE by HENRY AMES BLOOD THOUGHTS SUGGESTED BY A COLLEGE EXAMINATION by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. THE COAST OF LIGURIA by EDWARD CARPENTER |