WHAT though it please you light my heart with fire (Heart that is yours, your subject, your domain), With fire of Furies, not with Love's sweet pain, To waste me body and bone till life expire! The ill that others deem too cruel-dire Is sweet to me -- I will not once complain, For I love not my life, nor hold it fain Save as to love it pleases your desire. But yet, if Heaven hath made me, Lady mine, To be your victim, may it not suffice To lay my loyal service at your shrine? 'Twere better you should have my service meet Than horror of a human sacrifice Stricken and bleeding at your beauty's feet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE JEW TO JESUS by FLORENCE KIPER FRANK THE BUGLER'S FIRST COMMUNION by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS THE COMING STORM' (A PICTURE BY R. S. GIFFORD) by HERMAN MELVILLE THE PORTENT by HERMAN MELVILLE FRIENDSHIP [OR, THE TRUE FRIEND] by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 109 by PHILIP SIDNEY NOW PRECEDENT SONGS, FAREWELL by WALT WHITMAN SONNET WRITTEN IN THE FALL OF 1914: 4 by GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY THE RIVER DUDDON: SONNET 34. AFTER-THOUGHT by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |