Complaining, alas, without redress, Thus woefully do I my life lead, My heart lamenting in heaviness, Through whose meekness I am near dead. Thus I endure always in pain, Devoid of pity, as in this case, Yet my poor heart cannot refrain; Wherefore, alas, I die, alas. So unkind, alas, saw I never none, So hard-hearted, so much without pity, As she to whom I make my moan; Wherefore, alas, I die, I die. Where I love best I am refused; Where I am loved I do not pass; Where I would fainest, I am disdained; Wherefore I die, alas, alas. Comfortless, complaining, thus I remain; Merciless, remaining without remedy; Cruelness increasing through false disdain; Pitiless remaining, alas, I die, I die. But from henceforth I hold it best Them for to love that loveth me; And then my heart shall have some rest, Where now for pain I die, I die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OVERNIGHT, A ROSE by CAROLINE GILTINAN POLITICAL GREATNESS by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY ODE ON THE DEATH OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON by ALFRED TENNYSON ECSTACY by KENNETH SLADE ALLING THE UNSCARRED FIGHTER REMEMBERS FRANCE by KENNETH SLADE ALLING TRANQUIL HABIT by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER LINES WRITTEN ON A TUMBLER by ROBERT BURNS GERTRUDE OF WYOMING; OR, THE PENNSYLVANIAN COTTAGE: 3 by THOMAS CAMPBELL |