Explore "O but my delicate lover" by Bliss Carman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
O but my delicate lover, / Is she not fair as the moonlight? / Is she not supple and strong / For hurried passion?
Has not the god of the green world, / In his large tolerant wisdom, / Filled with the ardours of earth / Her twenty summers?
Well did he make her for loving; / Well did he mould her for beauty; / Gave her the wish that is brave / With understanding.
"O Pan, avert from this maiden / Sorrow, misfortune, bereavement, / Harm, and unhappy regret," / Prays one fond mortal.