WONDER not, Cynthia, thou who art Thyself a wonder, whose each part Kindles so many amorous flames, That Love wants numbers, Beauty names, If I that with so much respect, Honour, admire, love, and affect Thy graces, as no soul can more, Yet willing starve in midst of store, When as by tying Hymen's knot, All thy perfections may be got: And I to those high pleasures rais'd, As to enjoy all I have prais'd: Know, Cynthia, that Love's purest fire, My love unsatisfied is pure: Thou dost not know, if I enjoy'd Thy beauties, if I might be cloy'd; More, all the while I nought enjoy, I do not care if thou be coy: Nor, if that lying by my side, Thy virgin cestus be untied: For, Cynthia, thou it true shalt prove, Hymen not makes, but seals our love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET TO LAKE LEMAN by GEORGE GORDON BYRON BEYOND THE POTOMAC by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE SANDALPHON by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW DREAM-LOVE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI ON THE SALE BY AUCTION OF KEATS' LOVE LETTERS by OSCAR WILDE LONDON WIND by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA |