The doubt which ye misdeeme, fayre love, is vaine, That fondly feare to loose your liberty, When loosing one, two liberties ye gayne, And make him bond that bondage earst dyd fly. Sweet be the bands the which true love doth tye, Without constraynt or dread of any ill: The gentle birde feeles no captivity Within her cage, but singes and feeds her fill. There Pride dare not approch, nor Discord spill The league twixt them that loyal love hath bound: But simple Truth and mutuall Good Will Seekes with sweet peace to salve each others wound: There Fayth doth fearlesse dwell in brasen towre, And spotlesse Pleasure builds her sacred bowre. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TRAGEDY OF VALENTINIAN: SPRING by JOHN FLETCHER THE INDIAN BURYING GROUND by PHILIP FRENEAU THE RUSH OF THE OREGON by ARTHUR GUITERMAN PEGGY, FR. THE GENTLE SHEPHERD by ALLAN RAMSAY THE PAGODA by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN ADVICE TO MY YOUNG WIFE by MAXWELL BODENHEIM A SWEET CONTENTION BETWEEN LOVE, HIS MISTRESS, AND BEAUTY by NICHOLAS BRETON |