THERE is so much that you can give to me -- I cannot bring you anything at all, Save worship and the little, tender words My lips let fall. But you -- oh, you can feed my hungry heart, And you can fill my chalice soul with wine, Till I grow drunk with drinking, marvelling At love like thine. How selfishly I come to beg all this, I who can give you nothing, dear, at all, Save worship and the little, grateful words My lips let fall. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ALFRED MOIR by EDGAR LEE MASTERS INGRATEFUL [OR UNGRATEFUL] BEAUTY THREATENED by THOMAS CAREW IDEA: TO THE READER OF THESE SONNETS, INTRODUCTION by MICHAEL DRAYTON SONNET: 12 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE TENT ON THE BEACH: 2. THE WRECK OF RIVERMOUTH by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER APRIL - AND DYING by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH |