Robert Seymour Bridges

Shorter Poems. Book I. 7. “I Will Not Let Thee Go”

        I will not let thee go.
    Ends all our month-long love in this?
        Can it be summed up so,
        Quit in a single kiss?
        I will not let thee go.

        I will not let thee go.
    If thy words’ breath could scare thy deeds,
        As the soft south can blow
        And toss the feathered seeds,
        Then might I let thee go.

        I will not let thee go.
    Had not the great sun seen, I might;
        Or were he reckoned slow
        To bring the false to light,
        Then might I let thee go.

        I will not let thee go.
    The stars that crowd the summer skies
        Have watched us so below
        With all their million eyes,
        I dare not let thee go.

        I will not let thee go.
    Have we not chid the changeful moon,
        Now rising late, and now
        Because she set too soon,
        And shall I let thee go?

        I will not let thee go.
    Have not the young flowers been content,
        Plucked ere their buds could blow,
        To seal our sacrament?
        I cannot let thee go.

        I will not let thee go.
    I hold thee by too many bands:
        Thou sayest farewell, and lo!
        I have thee by the hands,
        And will not let thee go.