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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=360735" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet XXIII: Love's Baubles</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=360735" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I stood where Love in brimming armfuls bore<br>Slight wanton flowers and foolish toys of fruit:<br>And round him ladies thronged in warm pursuit,<br>Fingered and lipped and proffered the strange store.<br>And from one hand the petal and the core<br>Savoured of sleep; and cluster and curled shoot<br>Seemed from another hand like shame's salute,—<br>Gifts that I felt my cheek was blushing for.<br>At last Love bade my Lady give the same:<br>And as I looked, the dew was light thereon;<br>And as I took them, at her touch they shone<br>With inmost heaven-hue of the heart of flame.<br>And then Love said: “Lo! when the hand is hers,<br>Follies of love are love's true ministers.”</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Dante+Gabriel+Rossetti">Dante Gabriel Rossetti</a></strong></div>

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