LOVE, he is nearer (though the moralist Of rule and line cry shame on me), more near To thee and to the heart of thee, be't wist, Who sins against thee even for the dear Lack that he hath of thee; than who, chill-wrapt In thy light-thought-on customed livery, Keeps all thy laws with formal service apt, Save that great law to tremble and to be Shook to his heart-strings if there do but pass The rumour of thy pinions. Such one is Thy varlet, guerdoned with the daily mass That feed on thy remainder-meats of bliss. More hath he of thy bosom, whose slips of grace Fell through despair of thy close-gracious face. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWICE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH INVITES POETS AND HISTORIANS TO WRITE IN CYNTHIA'S PRAISE by PHILIP AYRES NORTH WIND IN OCTOBER by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES |