Reader placid and bucolic, Sober, guileless man of the good, Fling away this saturnine book, Orgiastic and melancholic. Unless with Satan, wily master, You have studied your rhetoric, Fling it away! You will understand none of it, Or think me hysteric. But if you are able, unenticed, To plunge your eye in the depths, Read me, that you learn to love me; Inquiring soul who suffers And goes seeking your paradise, Pity me! . . . If not, be damned! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARIA WENTWORTH by THOMAS CAREW WOMAN'S CONSTANCY by JOHN DONNE A TERRE (BEING THE PHILOSOPHY OF MANY SOLDIERS) by WILFRED OWEN THE BROOK: AUTUMN by LAURA ABELL REBECCA; WHO SLAMMED DOORS FOR FUN AND PERISHED MISERABLY by HILAIRE BELLOC |