KIND in unkindness, when will you relent And cease with faint love true love to torment? Still entertained, excluded still I stand; Her glove still hold, but cannot touch the hand. In her fair hand my hopes and comforts rest: O might my fortunes with that hand be blest! No envious breaths then my deserts could shake, For they are good whom such true love doth make O let not beauty so forget her birth, That it should fruitless home return to earth! Love is the fruit of beauty, then love one! Not your sweet self, for such self-love is none. Love one that only lives in loving you; Whose wronged deserts would you with pity view, This strange distaste which your affections sways Would relish love, and you find better days. Thus till my happy sight your beauty views, Whose sweet remembrance still my hope renews, Let these poor lines solicit love for me, And place my joys where my desires would be. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ANATOMY OF THE WORLD: THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY by JOHN DONNE A WORKING PARTY by SIEGFRIED SASSOON THE VOYAGE OF MAELDUNE by ALFRED TENNYSON WHY DID YOU DEPART AT DUSK? by CLARISSA M. BAILEY THE COMET by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES A THOUGHT FROM SCHILLER by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE DOOMED OAK; IN IMITATION OF ANATOLE FRANCE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |