 | Three Hundred Sonnets |  |
200
AVERSION.
Coarse, vain and vulgar, ignorant and mean,Sensual and sordid in each hope and aim,
Selfish in appetite, and basely keen
In tracking out gross pleasure's guilty game,
Such an one, like an Afreet, have I seen
Shedding o'er this fair world his balefire spite,
And can I love him?—far be from my thought
To show not such the charities I ought,—
But from his converse should I reap delight?
Nor bid the tender sproutings of my mind
Shrink from his evil, as from bane and blight,
Nor back upon themselves my feelings roll?—
O moral monster, loveless and unkind,
Thou art as wormwood to my secret soul!
| Three Hundred Sonnets | |