The Affliction of Richard By  

                      Robert Bridges

      Love not too much. But how,

When thou hast made me such,

And dost thy gifts bestow,

How can I love too much?

      Though I must fear to lose,

And drown my joy in care,

With all its thorns I choose

The path of love and prayer.

      Though thou, I know not why,

Didst kill my childish trust,

That breach with toil did I

Repair, because I must:

      And spite of frighting schemes,

With which the fiends of Hell

Blaspheme thee in my dreams,

So far I have hoped well.

      But what the heavenly key,

What marvel in me wrought

Shall quite exculpate thee,

I have no shadow of thought.

      What am I that complain?

The love, from which began

My question sad and vain,

Justifies thee to man.

Poet Bio

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  Robert Bridges

  1844–1930