Landor, not that I doubt your word, <br />That you had strove with none <br />At seventy-five and had deferred <br />To nature and art alone; <br />It is rather that at thirty-two <br />From us I see them part <br />After they served, so sweetly, you- <br />Yet nature has no heart: <br />Brother and sister are estranged <br />By his ambitious lies <br />For he his sister Helen much deranged- <br />Outraged her, and put coppers on her eyes.<br /><br />Allen Tate<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/unnatural-love/
