Fair dog, which so my heart dost tear asunder, That my life's-blood, my bowels, overfloweth, Alas, what wicked rage conceal'st thou under These sweet enticing joys, thy forehead showeth? Me, whom the light-winged god of long hath chased, Thou hast attained, thou gav'st that fatal wound, Which my soul's peaceful innocence hath razed, And reason to her servant humor bound. Kill therefore in the end, and end my anguish, Give me my death, methinks even time upbraideth A fullness of the woes, wherein I languish; Or if thou wilt I live, then pity pleadeth Help out of thee, since nature hath revealed, That with thy tongue thy bitings may be healed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHEN LOVE GOES by SARA TEASDALE AFTER A VISIT by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR ODE SUNG IN THE TOWN HALL, CONCORD, JULY 4, 1857 by RALPH WALDO EMERSON STANZAS IN THE MEMORY OF EDWARD QUILLINAN, ESQ. by MATTHEW ARNOLD ON THE DEATH OF AN OLD TOWNSMAN by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |