Come Anthea, know thou this, Love at no time idle is: Let's be doing, though we play But at push-pin (half the day:) Chains of sweet bents let us make, Captive one, or both, to take: In which bondage we will lie, Soules transfusing thus, and die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MEMORY OF MARTHA by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE BUGLER'S FIRST COMMUNION by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS PRESIDENT LINCOLN'S BURIAL HYMN by WALT WHITMAN THE PROCLAMATION by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE GLOW-WORM by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH AGAMEMNON: HELEN. CHORUS by AESCHYLUS THE AUTHOR'S LAST WORDS TO HIS STUDENTS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |