"Is Sin, then, fair?" Nay, love, come now, Put back the hair From his sunny brow; See, here, blood-red Across his head A brand is set, The word—"Regret." "Is Sin so fleet That while he stays, Our hands and feet May go his ways?" Nay, love, his breath Clings round like death, He slakes desire With liquid fire. "Is Sin Death's sting?" Ay, sure he is, His golden wing Darkens man's bliss; And when Death comes, Sin sits and hums A chaunt of fears Into man's ears. "How slayeth Sin?" First, God is hid, And the heart within By its own self chid; Then the maddened brain Is scourged by pain To sin as before And more and more, For evermore. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ILKA BLADE O' GRASS KEPS ITS AIN DRAP O' DEW by JAMES BALLANTYNE THE LISTENERS by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE PASSING BY by THOMAS FORD (1580-1648) MILTON'S PRAYER [OF PATIENCE, OR, IN BLINDNESS] by ELIZABETH LLOYD HOWELL THE SHEPHERD OF KING ADMETUS by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL FELDMESTEN OR MEASURING THE GRAVES by ALTER ABELSON ON CYNTHIA, SINGING A RECITATIVE PIECE OF MUSIC by PHILIP AYRES |