Wer't granted me to choose, How I would end my dayes; Since I this Life must loose, It should be in Your praise; For there is no @3Bayes@1 Can be set above you. S'impossibly I love You And for You sit so hie, Whence none may remove You In my cleere Poesie, That I oft deny You so ample Merit. The freedome of my Spirit Maintayning (still) my Cause, Your Sex not to inherit, Urging the @3Salique@1 Lawes; But your Vertue drawes From Me every due. Thus still You me pursue, That no where I can dwell, By Feare made just to You, Who Naturally rebell, Of You that excell That should I still Endyte, Yet will You want some Ryte. That lost in Your high praise I wander to and fro, As seeing sundry Waies: Yet which the right not know To get out of this Maze. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE TOMBS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY by FRANCIS BEAUMONT TO CORINTH by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR MARY MAGDALEN by BARTOLOME LEONARDO DE ARGENSOLA OF BENEVOLENCE: AN EPISTLE TO EUMENES by JOHN ARMSTRONG LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM AT MALTA by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |