WHAT torments must the virgin prove That feels the pangs of hopeless love. What endless cares must rack the breast That is by sure despair possessed. When love in tender bosoms reigns, With all its soft, its pleasing pains, Why should it be a crime to own The fatal flame we cannot shun? The soul by nature formed sincere A slavish forced disguise must wear, Lest the unthinking world reprove The heart that glows with generous love. But oh! in vain the sigh's repressed, That gently heaves the pensive breast, The glowing blush, the falling tear, The conscious wish, and silent fear. Ye soft betrayers, aid my flame, And give my new desires a name; Some power my gentle griefs redress, Reveal, or make my passion less. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BOLDNESS IN LOVE by THOMAS CAREW LULLABY by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 47. THE CARPENTER'S SON by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN TASTING THE EARTH by JAMES OPPENHEIM TO ALISON CUNNINGHAM; FROM HER BOY by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON TO ROBERT BURNS; AN EPISTLE ON INSTINCT by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES |