Love, like a wind, shook wide your blosmy eyes, <br />You trembled, and your breath came sobbing-wise <br />For that you loved me. <br /> <br />You were so kind, so sweet, none could withhold <br />To adore, but that you were so strange, so cold; <br />For that you loved me. <br /> <br />Like to a box of spikenard did you break <br />Your heart about my feet. What words you spake! <br />For that you loved me. <br /> <br />Life fell to dust without me; so you tried <br />All carefullest ways to drive me from your side, <br />For that you loved me. <br /> <br />You gave yourself as children give, that weep <br />And snatch back, with--'I meant you not to keep!' <br />For that you loved me. <br /> <br />I am no woman, girl, nor ever knew <br />That love could teach all ways that hate could do <br />To her that loved me. <br /> <br />Have less of love, or less of woman in <br />Your love, or loss may even from this begin-- <br />That you so love me. <br /> <br />For, wild Penelope, the web you wove <br />You still unweave, unloving all your love; <br />Is this to love me, <br /> <br />Or what rights have I that scorn could deny? <br />Even of your love, alas, poor Love must die, <br />If so you love me!<br /><br />Francis Thompson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/penelope-5/
