E lizabeth it is in vain you say ' L ove not' — thou sayest it in so sweet a way: I n vain those words from thee or L. E. L. Z antippe's talents had enforced so well: A h! if that language from thy heart arise, B reathe it less gently forth — and veil thine eyes. E ndymion, recollect, when Luna tried T o cure his love — was cured of all beside — H is folly — pride — and passion — for he died.
Return to the Edgar Allan Poe Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; An Enigma