Love is twain, it is not single, Gold and silver mixed in one, Passion 'tis and pain which mingle Glist'ring then for aye undone. Pain it is not; wondering pity Dies or e'er the pang is fled: Passion 'tis not, foul and gritty, Born one instant, instant dead. Love is twain, it is not single, Gold and silver mixed in one, Passion 'tis and pain which mingle Glist'ring then for aye undone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS TRAIN by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE COLOR SERGEANT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON BROTHERHOOD (2) by EDWIN MARKHAM EFFIGY OF A NUN (SIXTEENTH CENTURY) by SARA TEASDALE THE INDIA WHARF by SARA TEASDALE |