(1544 - 1595 / Italy)

Hedge, That Divides The Lovely

Hedge, that divides the lovely
Garden, and myself from me,
Never in you so fair a rose I see
As she who is my lady,
Loving, sweet and holy:
Who as I stretch my hand to you
Presses it, so softly, too.

User Rating: 3,1 / 5 ( 51 votes ) 13

Comments (13)

Please! ! ! Some one delete the oral reading by the virtual voice. It's like Siri or a generic voice mail recording. Simply destroys any of the sense of the poem. Ugh! !
I have been reading the comments below and just felt like putting my two word about hedge. Hedge is the key word. It seems to represent the reality of life - a life where the partner in life are not always so full of love the way we see in our imagination. The lovely lady of dreams is always by you pressing your hands but the one behind hedge of life is not like that.
Such a soft and tender poem. Watching the garden the lover is fully consumed with love for his lady.
''Who as I stretch my hand to, Press it, so softly, too''...such tenderness; a great sign of love. A good poem indeed!
Sweet and interesting poem. Like to read again and again. Thanks for sharing.
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