Love Is Not

By Richard Watson Gilder

Oh, love is not a summer mood,
Nor flying phantom of the brain,
Nor youthful fever of the blood.

Nor dream, nor fate, nor circumstance.
Love is not born of blinded chance.
Nor bred in simple ignorance.

Love is the flower of maidenhood;
Love is the fruit of mortal pain;
And she hath winter in her blood.

True love is steadfast as the skies,
And once alight she never flies;
And love is strong, and love is wise

Dear Black Child - Grace Storm Ad

Dear Black Child - Grace Storm Ad
Dear Black Child - Grace Storm Ad
LEVEL UP!
Drop your email and we'll send you 25 poetry editing guidelines to help transform your creative writing!
Send It!
LEVEL UP!
Drop your email and we'll send you 25 poetry editing guidelines to help transform your creative writing!
Send It!
Get On The List
We'll let you know whenever we launch a new event, competition or service!
SIGN UP NOW!
Get On The List
We'll let you know whenever we launch a new event, competition or service!
SIGN UP NOW!