I on my horse, and Love on me, doth try Our horsemanships, while by strange work I prove A horseman to my horse, a horse to Love, And now man's wrongs in me, poor beast, descry. The reins wherewith my rider doth me tie Are humbled thoughts, which bit of reverence move, Curbed in with fear, but with gilt boss above Of hope, which makes it seem fair to the eye. The wand is will; thou, fancy, saddle art, Girt fast by memory; and while I spur My horse, he spurs with sharp desire my heart; He sits me fast, however I do stir; And now hath made me to his hand so right That in the manage myself takes delight. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WIDOW'S MITE by FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON THE LOVE-SICK FROG by MOTHER GOOSE THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 98. HE AND I by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI SUICIDE IN THE TRENCHES by SIEGFRIED SASSOON THE LUTE OBEYS by THOMAS WYATT VERSES TO SOME FRIENDS RETURNING FROM THE SEA-SIDE by BERNARD BARTON |