You call me cold: you wonder why The marble of a mien like mine Gives fiery sparks of Poesy, Or softens at Love's touch divine. Go, look on Nature, you will find It is the rock that feels the sun: But you are blind, -- and to the blind The touch of ice and fire is one. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BLOSSOM, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE HALLOWED GROUND by THOMAS CAMPBELL THE MEMORY OF MARTHA by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR IN SICKNESS (1714) by JONATHAN SWIFT AN INVITATION TO A DRINKFEST by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS TO SLEEP, WHEN SICK OF A FEVER by PHILIP AYRES |