When thou, poor excommunicate From all the joys of love, shalt see The full reward and glorious fate Which my strong faith shall purchase me, Then curse thine own inconstancy. A fairer hand than thine shall cure That heart which thy false oaths did wound, And to my soul a soul more pure Than thine shall by Love's hand be bound, And both with equal glory crown'd. Then shalt thou weep, entreat, complain To Love, as I did once to thee; When all thy tears shall be as vain As mine were then, for thou shalt be Damned for thy false apostasy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WE FACE THE FUTURE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE FRUIT GARDEN PATH by AMY LOWELL |