Love is twain, it is not single, Gold and silver mixed in one, Passion 'tis and pain which mingle Glist'ring then for aye undone. Pain it is not; wondering pity Dies or e'er the pang is fled: Passion 'tis not, foul and gritty, Born one instant, instant dead. Love is twain, it is not single, Gold and silver mixed in one, Passion 'tis and pain which mingle Glist'ring then for aye undone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 31 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN TOM JONES by JAMES HAY BEATTIE AT FAREWELL by GEORGE W. BERGQUIST WILL O' THE WISP by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE DEAD BRONCHO-BUSTER by BERTON BRALEY AURORA LEIGH: BOOK 5 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |