Love still a boy, and oft a wanton is, Schooled only by his mother's tender eye; What wonder then if he his lesson miss, When for so soft a rod dear play he try? And yet my Star, because a sugared kiss In sport I sucked, while she asleep did lie, Doth lour, nay chide; nay, threat, for only this. Sweet, it was saucy love, not humble I. But no 'scuse serves, she makes her wrath appear In beauty's throne; see now, who dares come near Those scarlet judges, threatening bloody pain? O heavenly fool, thy most kiss-worthy face Anger invests with such a lovely grace That anger's self I needs must kiss again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HEART OF THE TREE by HENRY CUYLER BUNNER THE AMERICAN FLAG by JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE IDYLLS OF THE KING: GUINEVERE by ALFRED TENNYSON A PRELUDE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SWORD AND BUCKLER; OR, SERVING-MAN'S DEFENCE by WILLIAM BASSE THE CROWN INN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE MERMAIDEN by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON MASQUE AT THE MARRIAGE OF THE EARL OF SOMERSET: CHORUS (2) by THOMAS CAMPION |