NOW hue and cry I make for Love! -- wild Love, the runaway, Now, even now he's left his bed and flown at dawn of day: A boy of April tears who runs and brags and talks for ever, And laughs and sneers; and on his back has wings and wears a quiver. Whose son he is I cannot say, for earth and skies above And seas, they one and all disown a Gascon like this Love: By everyone and everywhere he's hated; but beware, He may be setting for your hearts some new and secret snare: There, there I spy him near his nest! you've not eluded me, Small archer, ambushed in the eyes of my Zenophile. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE TOMBS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY by FRANCIS BEAUMONT AT THE SEASIDE by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON FIDELITY by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 19. THE HEART, LOVE'S BUTT by PHILIP AYRES GLOW OF DAWN by ELIDA PATTISON BENTLEY THREE PORTRAITS by GAMALIEL BRADFORD |