Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

(1840 - 1922 / England)

The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part Ii: To Juliet: Xxviii - Poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

IN ANSWER TO A QUESTION
Why should I hate you, love, or why despise
For that last proof of tenderness you gave?
The battle is not always to the brave,
Nor life's sublimest wisdom to the wise.
True courage often is in frightened eyes,
And reason in sweet lips that only rave.
There is a weakness stronger than the grave,
And blood poured out has overcome the skies.
--Nay, love, I honour you the more for this,
That you have rent the veil, and ushered in
A fellow soul to your soul's holy place.
And why should either blush that we have been
One day in Eden, in our nakedness?
--'Tis conscience makes us sinners, not our sin.


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 13, 2010



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