My love is like to ice, and I to fire:
How comes it then that this her cold so great
Is not dissolved through my so hot desire,
But harder grows the more I her entreat?
Or how comes it that my exceeding heat
Is not allayed by her heart-frozen cold,
But that I burn much more in boiling sweat,
And feel my flames augmented manifold?
What more miraculous thing may be told,
That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice,
And ice, which is congeal'd with senseless cold,
Should kindle fire by wonderful device?
Such is the power of love in gentle mind,
That it can alter all the course of kind.
Great poem, Edmund. You have beautifully put across the emotional distance between two hearts in the game of love. Thanks and regards.
Sorry I had to cry laughing at the post below me. Keep writing? Dude hes been dead for 400 years.
That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice, And ice, which is congeal'd with senseless cold, Should kindle fire by wonderful device? ...i find this the most beautiful part...beautifully describing the power of love
A magnificent poem that captures the wonders of love. Powerful lines embellished with great images and rhyme.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A lover and his muse are akin to fire and ice giving a new meaning to a hide and seek relationship. Following lines sum up all: That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice, And ice, which is congeal'd with senseless cold, Should kindle fire by wonderful device?