You reason well as one who sees The tilting masks that screen pretense, As one who feels love's urgencies And knows our hearts' coincidence. I own it all, but cannot bow A pliant neck to fit @3that@1 yoke; And so at last, I know not how, The Puritan within me spoke. My heart is numbed by that old cry Resounding down the years, "The soul that sinneth, it shall die", Despite remorse, despite our tears. I gaze, prophetic, down the days And see the glory fade, See bankrupt Love and all he fears As his lost stakes are slowly paid. I pit my soul against your sense And trust my spirit's power To bear for love high evidence When comes at last the crucial hour. And so, dear love, for you and me, No primrose path forevermore; A stern old Puritan stands guard, His dead hand on the bolted door. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |