This love, that dares not warm before its flame
Our yearning hands, or from its tempting tree
Yield fruit we may consume, or let us claim
In Hymen's scroll of happy heraldry
The twining glyphs of perfect you and me --
May kindle social fires whence curls no blame,
Find gardens where no fruits forbidden be,
And mottoes weave, unsullied by a shame.
For, love, unmothered Childhood wanly waits
For such as you to cherish it to Youth:
Raw social soils untilled need Love's own verve
That Peace a-flower may oust their weedy hates:
And where Distress would faint from wolfish sleuth
The perfect lovers' symbol is "We serve!"
Love it is great and supreme. The great writing it is felt.
....love, unmothered Childhood wanly waits...... Unmatched beauty of expression.
This poem does not flow when read out loud but would gain personal meaning if it was memorized and spoke to oneself. The ending is the best as it is easier to understand and gives the reader something to disagree of agree with which is one of the points of writing poetry in the first place.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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