Affection

 The earth that made the rose, 
She also is thy mother, and not I.
 
The flame wherewith thy maiden spirit glows 
Was lighted at no hearth that I sit by.
 
I am as far below as heaven above thee.
 
Were I thine angel, more I could not love thee.
 

Bid me defend thee! 
Thy danger over-human strength shall lend me, 
A hand of iron and a heart of steel, 
To strike, to wound, to slay, and not to feel.
 
But if you chide me, 
I am a weak, defenceless child beside thee.

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