IT matters not its history -- Love has wings, Like lightning, swift and fatal; and it springs, Like a wild flower, where it is least expected; Existing, whether cherished or rejected. A mystery art thou! -- thou mighty one! We speak thy name in beauty; yet we shun To say thou art our guest; for who will own His life thy empire, and his heart thy throne? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BOSTON ATHENAEUM by AMY LOWELL A LITTLE GIRL'S PRAYER by KATHERINE MANSFIELD DOMESDAY BOOK: ELENOR MURRAY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS PLAINT OF THE DISGUSTED BRITON IN THE STATES by GEORGE SANTAYANA DUSK IN WAR TIME by SARA TEASDALE |