Fain would I change that note To which fond love hath charmed me, Long, long to sing by rote, Fancying that that harmed me: Yet when this thought doth come, 'Love is the perfect sum Of all delight,' I have no other choice Either for pen or voice, To sing or write. O Love, they wrong thee much That say thy sweet is bitter; When thy rich fruit is such As nothing can be sweeter. Fair house of joy and bliss, Where truest pleasure is, I do adore thee; I know thee what thou art, I serve thee with my heart, And fall before thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PEDANTIC LITERALIST by MARIANNE MOORE BURNING DAWN by HAYDEN CARRUTH CACHE LA POUDRE by JAMES GALVIN GUARDIANSHIP by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: CHARLES WARREN, THE SHERIFF by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |