Nay, ask me not. I would not dare pretend To constant passion and a life-long trust. They will desert thee, if indeed they must. How can we guess what Destiny will send -- Smiles of fair fortune, or black storms to rend What even now is shaken by a gust? The fire will burn, or it will die in dust. We cannot tell until the final end. And never vow was forged that could confine Aught but the body of the thing whereon Its pledge was stamped. The inner soul divine, That thinks of going, is already gone. When faith and love need bolts upon the door, Faith is not faith, and love abides no more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A POISON TREE, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE SONNET: 46 by WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN UPON THE SAYING THAT MY VERSES WERE MADE BY ANOTHER by ANNE KILLIGREW PLACES: 2. FULL MOON (SANTA BARBARA) by SARA TEASDALE EUROPE; THE 72ND AND 73RD YEARS OF THESE STATES by WALT WHITMAN QUATORZAINS: 9. TO MY LYRE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES CHINESE PICTURE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 113, TO ONE WITH HIS SONNETS by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |