Shall I confess my love? No, no – it will not do; Not while Uncertainty Can keep a woman true. She shall not know that I, Being absolutely won, Release her thousand charms For something new in man. So let the game go on, Which Love calls 'Yes or No,' Till Death says, 'Come with me – Come to a quiet show.' Where she, or I, alone, Inside the cold, black vault, Train worms to skip a hair, And make a somersault. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LAMENT OF THE FRONTIER GUARD by LI PO JUGGLING JERRY by GEORGE MEREDITH THE ENCHANTMENT by THOMAS OTWAY FROLIC by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 71 by PHILIP SIDNEY TO S.M., A YOUNG AFRICAN PAINTER, ON SEEING HIS WORKS by PHILLIS WHEATLEY |