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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SONNET: 23, by GEORGE SANTAYANA Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: But is this love, that in my hollow breast Last Line: To where the seraphs covet not, and burn. | |||
But is this love, that in my hollow breast Gnaws like a silent poison, till I faint? Is this the vision that the haggard saint Fed with his vigils, till he found his rest? Is this the hope that piloted thy quest, Knight of the Grail, and kept thy heart from taint? Is this the heaven, poets, that ye paint? Oh, then, how like damnation to be blest! This is not love: it is that worser thing -- Hunger for love, while love is yet to learn. Thy peace is gone, my soul; thou long must yearn. Long is thy winter's pilgrimage, till spring And late home-coming; long ere thou return To where the seraphs covet not, and burn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ASPIRATIONS OF A COUNTRY LAD by GEORGE SANTAYANA AT THE CHURCH DOOR by GEORGE SANTAYANA BEFORE A STATUE OF ACHILLES by GEORGE SANTAYANA CLASS SONG (WHICH WILL BE SUNG ON THE 22ND OF FEBRUARY) by GEORGE SANTAYANA COLLEGE DRINKING SONG by GEORGE SANTAYANA DEDICATION OF THE FIRST SONNETS TO A FRIEND ... by GEORGE SANTAYANA DEDICATION TO THE LATER SONNETS TO URANIA by GEORGE SANTAYANA |
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