Lass, when they talk of love, laugh in their face.
They find not love who seek it far and wide.
Man is a cold, hard brute. Your timid grace
Will leave his coarse desires unsatisfied.
He only lies. And he will leave you lone
Upon your hearth with children to look after,
And you will feel so old when he reels home,
To fill the morning hours with obscene laughter.
Do not believe there is any love for the winning.
But go to the garden where the blue skies pour,
And watch, at the greenest rose-tree's dusky core,
The silver spider living alone, and spinning.
Francis Jammes's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Love by Francis Jammes )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
- Mother to Son, Langston Hughes
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Alone, Edgar Allan Poe
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
Poem of the Day
- winter, Clara Keiper
- After Rudyard Kipling, Josh Mitteldorf
- The cold will come, Gianfranco Aurilio
- Boredom, DEEPAK KUMAR PATTANAYAK
- 'It Is Nothing To write Home About', Almedia Knight Oliver
- Tyranny, Amitava Sur
- Be Near Heaven's Door, Naveed Akram
- On The Brink Of Insanity, Michael Webb
- Just Passing Through, Lora Colon
- Clarified Heart, Naveed Akram