Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part Iii: Gods And False Gods: Lxi - Poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
TO ONE EXCUSING HIS POVERTY
Ah! love, impute it not to me a sin
That my poor soul thus beggared comes to thee.
My soul a pilgrim was, in search of thine,
And met these accidents by land and sea.
The world was hard, and took its usury,
Its toll for each new night in each new inn;
And every road had robber bands to fee;
And all, even kindness, must be paid in coin.
Behold my scrip is empty, my heart bare.
I give thee nothing who my all would give.
My pilgrimage is finished, and I fare
Bare to my death, unless with thee I live.
Ah! give, love, and forgive that I am poor.
Ah! take me to thy arms and ask no more.
Comments about The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part Iii: Gods And False Gods: Lxi by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You