You say you love; but with a voice
Chaster than a nun's, who singeth
The soft Vespers to herself
While the chime-bell ringeth -
O love me truly!
You say you love; but with a smile
Cold as sunrise in September,
As you were Saint Cupid's nun,
And kept his weeks of Ember.
O love me truly!
You say you love - but then your lips
Coral tinted teach no blisses.
More than coral in the sea -
They never pout for kisses -
O love me truly!
You say you love; but then your hand
No soft squeeze for squeeze returneth,
It is like a statue's dead -
While mine to passion burneth -
O love me truly!
O breathe a word or two of fire!
Smile, as if those words should burn be,
Squeeze as lovers should - O kiss
And in thy heart inurn me!
O love me truly!
Keats, You Say You Love...
Such a passionate poem. Full of feeling, and everytime i read it makes my heart beat a little faster. I'm a hopeless romantic, and i'm sure everyone disagrees with me, but this is how love should be. It should be a 'a word or two of fire', and 'in thy heart inurn me'. It should leave you warm with the promise of more, you should feel like you are melting and freezing all at the same time. Ah love...
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