ERE yet my heart was sweet Love's tomb, Love labored honey busily. I was the hive, and Love the bee, My heart the honeycomb. One very dark and chilly night Pride came beneath and held a light. The cruel vapors went through all, Sweet Love was withered in his cell: Pride took Love's sweets, and by a spell Did change them into gall; And Memory, though fed by Pride, Did wax so thin on gall, Awhile she scarcely lived at all. What marvel that she died? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SCHOOL BOY, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE WILD HONEYSUCKLE by PHILIP FRENEAU THE FALL OF HYPERION; A DREAM by JOHN KEATS THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 101. THE ONE HOPE by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI IN THE GALLERY by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |