Love: An Elegy

Too much my heart of Beauty's power hath known,
Too long to Love hath reason left her throne;
Too long my genius mourn'd his myrtle chain,

by Mark Akenside Click to read full poem

Comments (8)

Be these thy triumphs; but no more presume That my rebellious heart will yield thee room: I know thy puny force, thy simple wiles; I break triumphant through thy flimsy toils; I see thy dying lamp's last languid glow, At first I thought he was going back on his word. But I was amused at his stubborn resolution against love when he said the above words.! Hha. Brilliant Elegy this. Couldn't stop reading.
indeed a great poem.. thaqnk u. tony
What happens when temptations talk - - Narrated with myriad, powerful words.
Fondest Passions! ! Thanks for sharing.
Poignant write here indeed...Thanks for sharing
Too long my genius mourn'd his myrtle chain. Yes, I would agree. Much too long. We are all too well acquainted with the simple fact that when anyone falls in love, he or she will feel that love has lur'd my soul from Wisdom's peaceful arms and we become quite foolish and forget about everything else. But when a poet falls in love, the likelihood of producing exasperatingly lengthy novels of tediously introspective poetry increases exponentially. I must admit, I did not make it all the way through to ten thousand girls with flowering chaplets, but what I did read was very proficiently constructed with very colorful imagery. A finely serviceable arsenal of rhyme and rhythm, but the overwrought epic of self-examination of the effect of love upon every conceivable aspect of the subject's life far exceeds the sufficient, very much like this comment. Adieu.
Stunning write. Nice theme. Lengthy but beautiful.
Such an interesting poem... thanks for sharing this long but great poem...