Sonnets written chiefly during a tour through Holland, Germany, Italy, Turkey, and Hungary. By Lady Emmeline Stuart Wortley |
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SONNET.
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227
SONNET.
[Love me—but love me!—life is waste, indeed]
Love me—but love me!—life is waste, indeed,Without the flowers of feeling to adorn
Its soil, though they, perchance, may bear the thorn—
Without these all is but one poisonous weed.
Our human nature hath one noble need,
And that is to be loved!—we pine and mourn,
Reft of that blessing, and all others scorn,
If others can be without that decreed!—
To thee I speak—with many a broken sigh,
And wilt thou mingle not thy thoughts with mine?—
I claim no vain response—impatiently!—
I ask no token—and I seek no sign,
But render Love for Love in rich reply!—
Answer my Soul with that!—my Heart with—thine!
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