The paynefull smith with force of fervent heat The hardest yron soone doth mollify; That with his heavy sledge he can it beat, And fashion to what he it list apply. Yet cannot all these flames in which I fry Her hart, more harde then yron, soft a whit Ne all the playnts and prayers with which Doe beat on th' andvyle of her stubberne wit: But still, the more she fervent sees my fit, The more she frieseth in her wilfull pryde; And harder growes, the harder she is smit, With all the playnts which to her be applyde. What then remaines but I to ashes burne, And she to stones at length all frosen turne? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INSTANS TYRANNUS by ROBERT BROWNING THE CHILD'S FIRST GRIEF by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS EPITAPH ON AN ARMY OF MERCENARIES by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE PAST IS THE PRESENT by MARIANNE MOORE SONNET: 54 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE SONG FOR ALL SEAS, ALL SHIPS by WALT WHITMAN |