Though bees have stings, I doubt if any bee Has ever stung a flower in all his life: Neither, my love, can I think ill of you, Though half the world and I may be at strife. Can I forget your coming, like the Moon When, robed in light, alone, without a star, She visits ruins; and the peace you brought, When I with all the world was still at war. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PROMETHEUS by JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE THE ROSE AND THORN by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE TWO SONNETS FROM NEW YORK: TOWERS by ADELAIDE NICHOLS BAKER STATUETTE by DOLORES DOROTHE BOST A THOUGHT FOR A LONELY DEATH-BED by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ALL'S WELL by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER |