No, no, fair heretic, it needs must be But an ill love in me, And worse for thee: For were it in my power To love thee now this hour More than I did the last, 'Twould then so fall I might not love at all: Love that can flow, and can admit increase, Admits as well an ebb, and may grow less. True love is still the same: the torrid zones, And those more frigid ones, It must not know; For love grown cold or hot Is lust or friendship, not The thing we have, For that's a flame would die, Held down or up too high. Then think I love more than I can express, And would love more, could I but love thee less. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CREDO by WILLIAM ARTHUR DUNKERLEY KEEPING ENDLESS HOLIDAY by TITUS PETRONIUS NIGER MAY DAY by ADELAIDE A. ANDREWS A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 26 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE DREAM AND THE REALITY by DOROTHY CAMERON WIND IN THE CYPRESS by MARY BEALE CARR REFLECTION by ELIZABETH JANE COATSWORTH |