MARTHA is not so tall, nor yet so fair As any of the other lovely three, Her chiefest grace is poor simplicity, Yet were the rest away, she were a star. She's fair enough, only she wants the art To set her beauties off as they can do, And that's the cause she ne'er heard any woo, Nor ever yet made conquest of a heart: And yet her blood's as boiling as the best, Which, pretty soul, does so disturb her rest, And makes her languish so, she's fit to die. Poor thing, I doubt she still must lie alone, For being like to be attack'd by none, She's no more wit to ask than to deny. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THREE SPRING NOTATIONS ON BIPEDS by CARL SANDBURG THOSE WHO LOVE by SARA TEASDALE THE BIRDS: THE BIRDS' LIFE by ARISTOPHANES SUMMER SONG: 1 by GEORGE BARKER THREE PASTORAL ELEGIES: 1 by WILLIAM BASSE VILLANELLE by JOACHIM DU BELLAY |