BRIMFUL of anger, not of love, The champion sends his foe a glove; But I that have a double share Of the softer passion, send a pair. Nor think it, dearest Delia, cruel, That I invite you to a duel. Ready to meet you face to face, At any time, in any place: Nor shall I leave you in the lurch, Though you should dare to fix the church. There come equipped with all your charms, A ring and licence are my arms. I will the unequal contest try, Resolved to fight, though sure to die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO BEACHEY, 1912 by CARL SANDBURG THE MOON by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES BORDER BALLAD [OR MARCH, OR SONG], FR. THE MONASTERY by WALTER SCOTT LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 7. MIDSUMMER by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM MY LITTLE CAPE COD MAIDEN by KATHERINE FINNIGAN ANDERSON THE CONCLUSION OF A LETTER TO THE REV. MR. C --. by MARY BARBER TO --, WITH ARTHUR AND ALBINA by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS |