Deny me not that I love thee: a sonnet


With all my youth I gave to thee a love
that lost itself upon thy soul like mist.
In turn did thou, like Apollo above,
my feelings doubt and passion dry to dust.
For time, thou said, love's true chariot be,
while love in haste meets untimely demise.
Though wisdom is the source of harmony,
time we lacked to make our feelings wise.

Yet still, thy mind unknown, I worship true:
what time do mortals need to o'erfill
their hearts with sadness, hate and joy anew,
and is not youthful love a feeling still?

So spurn my wanton love for all to see,
yet please: deny me not that I love thee.

Copyright © 1985, 2009 Dejan Djurdjevic
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