Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

(1840 - 1922 / England)

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

'Tis not that love is less or sorrow more
Than in the days when first these things began.
Even then you doubted, and our hearts were sore
And you rebelled because I was a man.
Even then you fought and wrestled with my plan
Of earthly bliss. What bitter anguish too
When at the hour decreed our passion ran
Out of our keeping and love claimed its due!
'Tis not love's fault we part, or grief's. Alas,
One mightier now compels us with His nod.
The fire of Heaven has touched us, and we pass
From pleasure's chastenings to a fiercer rod;
And fear has cast out love, for flesh is grass
And we are withered with the wrath of God.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 13, 2010

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