Il'e write no more of Love; but now repent Of all those times that I in it have spent. Ile write no more of life; but wish twas ended, And that my dust was to the earth commended. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUCOLIC COMEDY: THE DOLL by EDITH SITWELL IN A LIBRARY by EMILY DICKINSON SEVEN TIMES THREE [ - LOVE] by JEAN INGELOW NIGHT AND DAY by SIDNEY LANIER SUMMER'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT: SPRING by THOMAS NASHE THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 2. RUSTIC INTERIOR by JOHN ARMSTRONG THE HWOMESTEAD A-VELL INTO HAND by WILLIAM BARNES JERUSALEM; THE EMANATION OF THE GIANT ALBION: CHAPTER 3 by WILLIAM BLAKE |