Oh, Sometimes, Love

Oh, sometimes, love is wanted not at all,
And one who’s loved thinks poem fantastical,
Or sees it ‘magination powerful,
Sent not unto herself for who she is,
But seeking dear love’s loving, which is his.
And yet, sometimes, a mixture there may be,
Made out of fancy’s truthful ecstasy,
Which puts out her, and him, from what they are
To blaze great sun o’er twinklings of twin star.
If mine be all this fault of furious joy,
If mine a boyish youth, which may annoy,
Then tell me straight, that I may cease to sin,
Be more a mentor to more mannish win,
Pay ‘magination kneel, and swear not grow,
Where at thy precious feet he’ll only glow.

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