LOVE guards the roses of thy lips
And flies about them like a bee;
If I approach he forward skips,
And if I kiss he stingeth me.
Love in thine eyes doth build his bower,
And sleeps within their pretty shine;
And if I look the boy will lower,
And from their orbs shoot shafts divine.
Love works thy heart within his fire,
And in my tears doth firm the same;
And if I tempt it will retire,
And of my plaints doth make a game.
Love, let me cull her choicest flowers;
And pity me, and calm her eye;
Make soft her heart, dissolve her lowers
Then will I praise thy deity.
But if thou do not, Love, I'll truly serve her
In spite of thee, and by firm faith deserve her.
Thomas Lodge's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Phillis 02 by Thomas Lodge )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
(8 February 1911 – 6 October 1979)
Rainer Maria Rilke
(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- The Saddest Poem, Pablo Neruda
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- If, Rudyard Kipling
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- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- XVII (I do not love you...), Pablo Neruda
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