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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
AN EPITAPH ON THE DECEASED AUTHOR, IN ALLUSION TO SONNETS ON AURORA, by E. G. First Line: Sad lover, thou who to thy cruel saint Last Line: Which burn our breasts, yet never warm their own! Subject(s): Bosworth, William (1618-1650) | |||
SAD Lover, thou who to thy cruel saint, Didst teach thy Muse to breathe thy last complaint, Whilst thou the ends that sex aim'd at mad'st known, Methought I heard thee thus to speak thy own; Lo! hear the glory of all women's pride, The matchless trophy of their beauties' might, To kill by treason, and hid fires provide Those to devour whom they do most invite; Poor injur'd ashes! you too late have try'd, How ill they do the gentlest hearts requite; O that in beauties should those flames be known, Which burn our breasts, yet never warm their own! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THESE LABOURED POEMS OF THE DECEASED AUTHOR, MR. WILLIAM BOSWORTH by L. C. ON THE EXACT AND ELABORATE STORY OF ARCADIUS AND SEPHA by F. L. ON THE DEATHLESS POEMS OF THE DECEASED AUTHOR by S. P. THE DAY AND THE WORK by EDWIN MARKHAM THE TOWER OF SKULLS by ISAAC ROSENBERG MIDSUMMER FROST (2) by ISAAC ROSENBERG DRUG STORE by JOHN VAN ALSTYN WEAVER THE THORN by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE CHILD AN' THE MOWERS by WILLIAM BARNES |
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