LO, how the woman once was woo'd: Forth leapt the savage from his lair, And fell'd her, and to nuptials rude He dragg'd her, bleeding, by the hair. From that to Chloe's dainty wiles And Portia's dignified consent, What distance! But these Pagan styles How far below Time's fair intent! Siegfried sued Kriemhild. Sweeter life Could Love's self covet? Yet 'tis sung In what rough sort he chid his wife For want of curb upon her tongue! Shall Love, where last I leave him, halt? Nay; none can fancy or foresee To how strange bliss may time exalt This nursling of civility. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FARE WELL by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE SEVEN TIMES ONE [- CHILDHOOD. EXULTATION] by JEAN INGELOW SHEEP AND LAMBS by KATHARINE TYNAN THE LAST MAN: RECOGNITION by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES FIRST NIGHT-FLIGHT by MARGARET BODEN ON THE FUNERAL OF CHARLES I; AT NIGHT, IN ST. GEORGE'S CHAPEL, WINDSOR by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES TO ROBERT BURNS; AN EPISTLE ON INSTINCT by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES |