Is it to love, to fix the tender gaze, To hide the timid blush, and steal away; To shun the busy world, and waste the day In some rude mountain's solitary maze? Is it to chant @3one@1 name in ceaseless lays, To hear no words that other tongues can say, To watch the pale moon's melancholy ray, To chide in fondness, and in folly praise? Is it to pour the involuntary sigh, To dream of bliss, and wake new pangs to prove; To talk, in fancy, with the speaking eye, Then start with jealousy, and wildly rove; Is it to loathe the light, and wish to die? For these I feel, -- and feel that they are Love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I SAW A STABLE by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE THE MOTHER'S HEART by CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH SHERIDAN NORTON A MOUNTAIN SOUL (KATHARINE COMAN) by KATHARINE LEE BATES BROOK IN DROUGHT by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN TO HARRY ELLIS WOOLDRIDGE by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES SCARLETT ROCKS by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 31 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: ROOT AND LEAF by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |