I know you do not love me; Yet you storm and swear that such is but a lie That 'tis I who have no love for you. I will rephrase your words. The thing you love, loves you not, For a body without benefit of soul or mind Is become vegetable ... Behold, the passion in a turnip. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INVITATION TO A PAINTER: 3 by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM WORDS IN A CERTAIN APPROPRIATE MODE by HAYDEN CARRUTH DAWN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO THE MARTYRED by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON GHOSTS OF THE OLD YEAR by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE WORD OF AN ENGINEER by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |