My godlike friend -- nay, do not stare, You think the phrase is odd-like; But God is love, the saints declare, Then surely thou art god-like. And is thy ardour still the same? And kindled still at Anna? Others may boast a partial flame, But thou art a volcano! Ev'n Wedlock asks not love beyond Death's tie-dissolving portal; But thou, omnipotently fond, May'st promise love immortal! Thy wounds such healing powers defy, Such symptoms dire attend them, That last great antihectic try -- Marriage perhaps may mend them. Sweet Anna has an air -- a grace, Divine, magnetic, touching: She talks, she charms -- but who can trace The process of bewitching? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DRINKING ODE by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE LINES TO A TEAPOT by JOANNA BAILLIE THE WEE KNITTER by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN HAGAR by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON EPISTLE TO SIR CLIFFORD CLIFTON, THEN SITTING IN PARLIAMENT by CHARLES COTTON ON THE GREAT EATER OF GRAYS-INN by CHARLES COTTON |