I love thee, dear, and knowing mine own heart, With every beat I give God thanks for this: I love thee only for the self thou art; No wild embrace, no wisdom-shaking kiss, No passionate pleading of a heart laid bare, No urgent cry of love's extremity -- Strong traps to take the spirit unaware -- Not one of these I ever had of thee. Neither of passion nor of pity wrought Is this, the love to which at last I yield, But sharpen in the stillness of my thought And by a birth of agony revealed. Here is a thing to live while we do live, Which shames not thee to take nor me to give. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN EXPOSTULATION by ISAAC BICKERSTAFFE SONNET ON FAME (2) by JOHN KEATS MODERN LOVE: 34 by GEORGE MEREDITH BANTAMS IN PINE-WOODS by WALLACE STEVENS THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): JASON'S SOWING AND REAPING by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS EDGE by CHARLOTTE FARRINGTON BABCOCK |