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Poem: “Romney” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Poems of Cheer

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American LiteratureAmerican PoetryElla Wheeler WilcoxPoems by Ella Wheeler WilcoxPoems of Cheer
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Romney


Nay, Romney, nay—I will not hear you say
   Those words again: “I love you, love you sweet!”
   You are profane—blasphemous.  I repeat,
You are no actor for so grand a play.

You love with all your heart?  Well, that may be;
   Some cups are fashioned shallow.  Should I try
   To quench my thirst from one of those, when dry—
I who have had a full bowl proffered me—

A new bowl brimming with a draught divine,
   One single taste thrilled to the finger-tips?
   Think you I even care to bathe my lips
With this poor sweetened water you call wine?

And though I spilled the nectar ere ’twas quaffed,
   And broke the bowl in wanton folly, yet
   I would die of my thirst ere I would wet
My burning lips with any meaner draught.

So leave me, Romney.  One who has seen a play
   Enacted by a star cannot endure
   To see it rendered by an amateur.
You know not what Love is—now go away!


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American LiteratureAmerican PoetryElla Wheeler WilcoxPoems by Ella Wheeler WilcoxPoems of Cheer


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