Where is the pride for which I once was blamed,
My vanity which held its head so high?
Who would believe them, seeing me thus tamed,
Thus subject, here as at thy feet I lie,
Pleading for love which now is all my life,
Craving a word for memory's rage to keep,
Asking a sign to still my inward strife,
Petitioning a touch to soothe my sleep?
Who would now guess them, as I kiss the ground
On which the feet of him I love have trod,
And bow before his voice whose least sweet sound
Speaks louder to me than the voice of God;
And knowing all the while that one dark day,
Spite of my worship, thou wilt turn away?
A Woman-s Sonnets: Iii
Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
(1)
Poem topics: away, believe, dark, god, kiss, life, memory, pride, sleep, head, sweet, touch, vanity, high, guess, sound, Valentine's Day, strife, worship, voice, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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