WHAT, are you hurt, Sweet? So am I; Cut to the heart; Though I may neither moan nor cry, To ease the smart. Where was it, Love? Just here! So wide Upon your cheek! Oh happy pain that needs no pride, And may dare speak. Lay here your pretty head. One touch Will heal its worst, While I, whose wound bleeds overmuch, Go all unnursed. There, Sweet. Run back now to your play, Forget your woes. I too was sorely hurt this day, -- But no one knows. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPRING IN NEW HAMPSHIRE by CLAUDE MCKAY YOUTH IMPERTURBABLE by CONRAD AIKEN CONTRA MORTEM: THE WHEEL OF BEING II by HAYDEN CARRUTH EVERYONE KNOWS WHOM THE SAVED ENVY by JAMES GALVIN |