Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO ONE WHO SAID I MUST NOT LOVE, by             Poem Explanation         Poet's Biography
First Line: Bid the fond mother spill her infant's blood
Last Line: But love each day renews th' torturing scene of death.
Alternate Author Name(s): Field, Edward, Mrs.; Fyge, Sarah
Subject(s): Love - Complaints


BID the fond mother spill her infant's blood,
The hungry epicure not think of food;
Bid the Antarctic touch the Arctic pole:
When these obey, I'll force love from my soul.
As light and heat compose the genial sun,
So love and I essentially are one:
Ere your advice, a thousand ways I tried
To ease the inherent pain, but 'twas denied,
Though I resolved, and grieved, and almost died.
Then I would needs dilate the mighty flame,
Play the coquette, hazard my dearest fame:
The modish remedy I tried in vain,
One thought of him contracts it all again.
Wearied at last, cursed Hymen's aid I chose,
But find the fettered soul has no repose.
Now I'm a double slave to love and vows:
As if my former sufferings were too small,
I've made the guiltless torture criminal.
Ere this, I gave a loose to fond desire,
Durst smile, be kind, look, languish and admire,
With wishing sighs fan the transporting fire.
But now these soft allays are so like sin,
I'm forced to keep the mighty anguish in:
Check my too tender thoughts and rising sighs,
As well as eager arms and longing eyes.
My kindness to his picture I refrain,
Nor now embrace the lifeless, lovely swain.
To press the charming shade, though through a glass,
Seems a Platonic breach of Hymen's laws:
Thus nicely fond, I only stand and gaze,
View the dear, conquering form that forced my fate,
Till I become as motionless as that.
My sinking limbs deny their wonted aid:
Fainting, I lean against my frighted maid,
Whose cruel care restores my sense and pain,
For soon as I have life I love again,
And with the fated softness strive in vain.
Distorted Nature shakes at the control,
With strong convulsions rends my struggling soul;
Each vital string cracks with th' unequal strife,
Departing love racks like departing life;
Yet there the sorrow ceases with the breath,
But love each day renews th' torturing scene of death.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net