Strong passions mean weak will, and he Who truly knows the strength and bliss Which are in love, will own with me No passion but a virtue 'tis. Few hear my word; it soars above The subtlest senses of the swarm Of wretched things which know not love, Their Psyche still a wingless worm. Ice-cold seems heaven's noble glow To spirits whose vital heat is hell; And to corrupt hearts even so The songs I sing, the tale I tell. These cannot see the robes of white In which I sing of love. Alack, But darkness shows in heavenly light, Though whiteness, in the dark, is black! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ST. ISAAC'S CHURCH, PETROGRAD by CLAUDE MCKAY OLD KING COLE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON DRINKING SONG, FR. THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL by RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN EPIGRAM: 18. THE ENEMY OF LIFE by THOMAS WYATT A PRAYER FOR MY DAUGHTER by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS NEWS OF THE WORLD: 3 by GEORGE BARKER |