Blasted with sighs, and surrounded with tears, Hither I come to seek the spring, And at mine eyes, and at mine ears, Receive such balms, as else cure everything; But O, self traitor, I do bring The spider love, which transubstantiates all, And can convert manna to gall, And that this place may thoroughly be thought True paradise, I have the serpent brought. 'Twere wholesomer for me, that winter did Benight the glory of this place, And that a grave frost did forbid These trees to laugh, and mock me to my face; But that I may not this disgrace Endure, nor yet leave loving, Love, let me Some senseless piece of this place be; Make me a mandrake, so I may groan here, Or a stone fountain weeping out my year. Hither with crystal vials, lovers come, And take my tears, which are love's wine, And try your mistress' tears at home, For all are false, that taste not just like mine; Alas, hearts do not in eyes shine, Nor can you more judge woman's thoughts by tears, Than by her shadow, what she wears. O perverse sex, where none is true but she, Who's therefore true, because her truth kills me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EARLY MORNING by HILAIRE BELLOC WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YOU by ROBERT BURNS EPIGRAM: A LAME BEGGAR by JOHN DONNE SONG OF THE FLOUR-MILL by EDWIN ARNOLD THE CROSS; TO THE MOTHERS OF THE MARTYRED DEAD UPON FIELD OF BATTLE by JOSEPHINE TURCK BAKER THE INVIOLATE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |