Great poetry of Henry David Thoreau
Blog,  English,  Poetry

Poem by Thoreau

Indeed, indeed, I cannot tell,

Though I ponder on it well,

Which were easier to state,

All my love or all my hate.

Surely, surely, thou wilt trust me

When I say thou dost disgust me.

O, I hate thee with a hate

That would fain annihilate;

Yet sometimes against my will,

My dear friend, I love thee still.

It were treason to our love,

And a sin to God above,

One iota to abate

Of a pure impartial hate.

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