Fond man, that canst believe her blood Will from those purple chanels flow; Or that the pure untainted flood Can any foule distemper know; Or that thy weake steele can incize The Crystall case, wherein it lyes. Know; her quick blood, proud of his seat, Runs dauncing through her azure veines; Whose harmony no cold, nor heat Disturbs, whose hue no tincture staines; And the hard rock wherein it dwells, The keenest darts of Love repels. But thou reply'st, behold she bleeds; Foole, thou'rt deceivd; and dost not know The mystique knot whence this proceeds, How Lovers in each other grow; Thou struckst her arme, but 'twas my heart Shed all the blood, felt all the smart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SMILE AS SMALL AS MINE by EMILY DICKINSON THE SONG OF A TRAVELLER by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON CLEOPATRA by WILLIAM WETMORE STORY IN THE WATER by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS JIM DALLEY by ALEXANDER ANDERSON ON A TOBACCO JAR by BERNARD BARKER |