O LOVE! What art thou, Love? the ace of hearts, Trumping Earth's kings and Queens, and all its suits; A player masquerading many parts In life's odd carnival;—A boy that shoots, From ladies' eyes, such mortal woundy darts; A gardener, pulling heart's-ease up by the roots; The Puck of Passion—partly false—part real— A marriageable maiden's "beau-ideal." O Love, what art thou, Love? a wicked thing, Making green misses spoil their work at school; A melancholy man, cross-gartering? Grave ripe-faced wisdom made an April fool? A youngster tilting at a wedding-ring? A sinner, sitting on a cuttie stool? A Ferdinand de Something in a hovel, Helping Matilda Rose to make a novel? O Love! what art thou, Love? one that is bad With palpitations of the heart—like mine— A poor bewildered maid, making so sad A necklace of her garters—fell design! A poet gone unreasonably mad, Ending his sonnets with a hempen line? O Love!—but whither now? forgive me, pray; I'm not the first that Love hath led astray. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE PEACOCK OF FRANCE by MARIANNE MOORE ONCE BEFORE by MARY ELIZABETH MAPES DODGE TWILIGHT HOUR by MARIE CAPPICK TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. OFF GASPE by EDWARD CARPENTER DEARTH by VIRGINIA RICHARDS CASABONA |