William Roscoe

(England)

To La Sansoeur - Poem by William Roscoe

I KNOW not how to call you light,
Since I myself was lighter;
Nor can you blame my changing plight
Who were the first inviter.

I know not which began to range
Since we were never constant;
And each when each began to change
Was found a weak remonstrant.

But this I know, the God of Love
Both shake his hand against us,
And scorning says we ne’er did prove
True passion—but pretences.


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Read poems about / on: passion, change, light, god, love



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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