Classic and Contemporary Poetry
YES?, by HENRY CUYLER BUNNER Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Is it true, then, my girl? Did you mean it? Last Line: Love, don't give me up. Subject(s): Love | ||||||||
Is it true, then, my girl? did you mean it -- The word spoken yesterday night? Does that hour seem so sweet now between it And this has come day's sober light? Have you woke from a moment of rapture To remember, regret. and repent, And to hate, perchance, him who has trapped your Unthinking consent? Who was he, last evening -- this fellow Whose audacity lent him a charm? Have you promised to wed Punchinello? For life taken Figaro's arm? Will you have the Court fool of the papers, The clown in the journalist's ring, Who earns his scant bread by his capers, To be your heat's king? A Modoc -- a Malay -- a Kaffir ("Bohemian" puts it too mild); By profession a poor paragrapher, Light Laughter's unrecognized child; At the best but a Brummagem poet, Inspired of tobacco and beer, Altogether off color -- I know it; I'm all that, my dear. When we met quite by chance at the theatre, And I saw you home under the moon, I'd no thought, love, that mischief would be at her Tricks with my tongue quite so soon; That I should forget fate and fortune, Make a difference 'twixt Sevres and delf; That I'd have the calm nerve to importune You, sweet, for yourself. It's appalling, by Jove, the audacious Effrontery of that request! But you -- you grew suddenly gracious, And hid your sweet face on my breast. Why you did it I cannot conjecture; I surprised you, poor child, I dare say, Or perhaps -- does the moonlight affect your Head often that way? It was glorious for me, but what pleasure Could you find in such wooing as this? Were my arms not too ursine in pressure, Was no flavor of clove in my kiss? Ah, your lips I profaned when I made with Their dainty divinity free, -- Twin loves never meant to be played with By fellows like me. . . . . . . You're released! With some wooer replace me More worthy to be your life's light; From the tablet of memory efface me, If you don't mean your "yes" of last night. But unless you are anxious to see me a Wreck of the pipe and the cup In my birthplace and graveyard, Bohemia -- Love, don't give me up. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE INVENTION OF LOVE by MATTHEA HARVEY TWO VIEWS OF BUSON by ROBERT HASS A LOVE FOR FOUR VOICES: HOMAGE TO FRANZ JOSEPH HAYDN by ANTHONY HECHT AN OFFERING FOR PATRICIA by ANTHONY HECHT LATE AFTERNOON: THE ONSLAUGHT OF LOVE by ANTHONY HECHT A SWEETENING ALL AROUND ME AS IT FALLS by JANE HIRSHFIELD THE CHAPERON by HENRY CUYLER BUNNER |
|