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Poem by Francis Thompson


The End of It


She did not love to love; but hated him
For making her to love, and so her whim
From passion taught misprision to begin;
And all this sin
Was because love to cast out had no skill
Self, which was regent still.
Her own self-will made void her own self's will 



Francis Thompson


Francis Thompson's other poems:
  1. Epilogue to the Poet's Sitter
  2. Scala Jacobi Portaque Eburnea
  3. A Fallen Yew
  4. A Judgment in Heaven
  5. Any Saint


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