A SONNET OF NEGATION
Nay, dear, no question such as Proteus' love,—
Fair Juliet, asked him shall be framed by me.
I have no fear of being despised by thee
Because the power of love I dared to prove.
If thou'st said truly, then to Eden's grove
My hand has guided,—all its joys to see,—
Past Seraphs' flaming swords. Should it not be
A cause of praise to thee, though God reprove?
And if the hand that turned aside the blade
Be burned and scarred, 'tis thine to kiss the wound,—
'Twas for thy sake. Upon thy heart be laid
The burden of all wrong; and to the sound
Of God's accusing voice I'll say "Thou'st made
The heart strings that Love strung to Passion's song."
Fair Juliet, asked him shall be framed by me.
I have no fear of being despised by thee
Because the power of love I dared to prove.
If thou'st said truly, then to Eden's grove
My hand has guided,—all its joys to see,—
Past Seraphs' flaming swords. Should it not be
A cause of praise to thee, though God reprove?
And if the hand that turned aside the blade
Be burned and scarred, 'tis thine to kiss the wound,—
'Twas for thy sake. Upon thy heart be laid
The burden of all wrong; and to the sound
Of God's accusing voice I'll say "Thou'st made
The heart strings that Love strung to Passion's song."