O, call not me to justify the wrong That thy unkindness lays upon my heart; Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue; Use power with power and slay me not by art. Tell me thou lovest elsewhere, but in my sight, Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside: What need'st thou wound with cunning when thy might Is more than my o'er-press'd defense can bide? Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knows Her pretty looks have been mine enemies, And therefore from my face she turns my foes, That they elsewhere might dart their injuries: Yet do not so; but since I am near slain, Kill me outright with looks and rid my pain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TARRY BUCCANEER by JOHN MASEFIELD LYSISTRATA: HYMN OF PEACE; CHORUSES OF ATHENIANS AND SPARTANS by ARISTOPHANES THE EMANCIPATION OF HIS MISTRESS' PERFECTIONS by FRANCIS BEAUMONT A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 8 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT AN ORIENTAL BALLAD by BERTON BRALEY NUMPHOLEPTOS by ROBERT BROWNING |