Blame not my cheeks, though pale with love they be; The kindly heat unto my heart is flown, To cherish it that is dismaid by thee, Who art so cruel and unsteadfast grown: For nature, called for by distressed hearts, Neglects and quite forsakes the outward parts. But they whose cheeks with careless blood are stained, Nurse not one spark of love within their hearts, And, when they woo, they speak with passion feigned, For their fat love lies in their outward parts: But in their breasts, where love his court should hold, Poor Cupid sits and blows his nails for cold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DIORAMA PAINTER AT THE MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY by KAREN SWENSON CALIBAN UPON SETEBOS; OR, NATURAL THEOLOGY IN THE ISLAND by ROBERT BROWNING THE LATEST DECALOGUE by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH THE SACK OF BALTIMORE by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS MOTHER TO SON by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES |