Incorrigible

My hopes and glories all go down,
Before the shadow of your frown:
You smile on me, and I am then
The happiest and the first of men.
To you is given, and but to you,
To punish and to pardon too.
Grave was my fault, yet wish it less
I can not; I would stil transgress.
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.