I LOVE too much; I am a river Surging with spring that seeks the sea, I am too generous a giver, Love will not stoop to drink of me. His feet will turn to desert places Shadowless, reft of rain and dew, Where stars stare down with sharpened faces From heavens pitilessly blue. And there at midnight sick with faring, He will stoop down in his desire To slake the thirst grown past all bearing In stagnant water keen as fire. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOUSE WITH THE MARBLE STEPS by AMY LOWELL THE ARABIAN SHAWL by KATHERINE MANSFIELD SLEEPLESS NIGHT by SARA TEASDALE TERMINUS (1) by RALPH WALDO EMERSON A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 40 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE NYMPH COMPLAINING FOR THE DEATH OF HER FAUN [OR, FAWN] by ANDREW MARVELL A CHILD'S GRAVE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |