Constant Penelope sends to thee, careless Ulysses. Write not again, but come, sweet mate, thyself to revive me. Troy we do much envy, we desolate lost ladies of Greece, Not Priamus, nor yet all Troy can us recompense make. Oh, that he had, when he first took shipping to Lacedaemon, That adulter I mean, had been o'erwhelmed with waters. Then had I not lain now all alone, thus quivering for cold, Nor used this complaint, nor have thought the day to be so long. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AH, HAD I SEEN THEE SOONER! by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS CONCLUDING VERSES, AFTER RETURNING HOME FROM AN AUTUMNAL MORNING WALK by BERNARD BARTON CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 1. TRUE AND CHASTE LOVE by WILLIAM BASSE EPISTLE TO JOHN WILLIAMSON by JOHN BRECKENRIDGE GRACE AFTER MEAT (1) by ROBERT BURNS THE THREE BLACK CROWS; SPOKEN AT THE FREE GRAMMAR SCHOOL IN MANCHESTER by JOHN BYROM |