Explore "Romney" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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!