I cannot love you, love, as you love me, In singleness of soul, and faith untried: I have no faith in any destiny, In any Heaven, even at your side. Our hearts are all too weak, the world too wide, You but a woman. If I dare to give Some thought, some tenderness, a little pride, A little love, 'tis yours, love, to receive. And do not grieve, though now the gift appear A drop to your love's ocean. Time shall see. —Oh, I could prophesy:—That day is sure, Though not perhaps this week, nor month, nor year, When your great love shall clean forgotten be, And my poor tenderness shall yet endure. 'Tis not the trees that make the tallest show, Which stand out stoutest when the tempests blow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COMING DOWN TO THE DESERT AT LORDBURG, N.M. by HAYDEN CARRUTH CLEAR AND COLDER; BOSTON COMMON by ROBERT FROST IN GRANTCHESTER MEADOWS; ON HEARING A SKYLARK SING by GEORGE SANTAYANA ONE AT PLAY IN THE FIELDS OF by KAREN SWENSON EROS (1) by RALPH WALDO EMERSON AMOR MUNDI by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONNET: 128 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |