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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=455664" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet VI: Is It to Love</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=455664" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Is it to love, to fix the tender gaze,<br>To hide the timid blush, and steal away;<br>To shun the busy world, and waste the day<br>In some rude mountain's solitary maze?<br>Is it to chant one name in ceaseless lays,<br>To hear no words that other tongues can say,<br>To watch the pale moon's melancholy ray,<br>To chide in fondness, and in folly praise?<br>Is it to pour th' involuntary sigh,<br>To dream of bliss, and wake new pangs to prove;<br>To talk, in fancy, with the speaking eye,<br>Then start with jealousy, and wildly rove;<br>Is it to loathe the light, and wish to die?<br>For these I feel,--and feel that they are Love.</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=Mary+Darby+Robinson">Mary Darby Robinson</a></strong></div>

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