Some fowls there be that have so perfect sight Again the sun their eyes for to defend, And some because the light doth them offend, Do never peer but in the dark or night. Other rejoice that see the fire bright And ween to play in it as they do pretend, And find the contrary of it that they intend. Alas, of that sort I may be by right. For to withstand her look I am not able; And yet can I not hide me in no dark place, Remembrance so followeth me of that face, So that with teary eyen swollen and unstable, My destiny to behold her doth me lead; Yet do I know I run into the glede. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...POLITICAL GREATNESS by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE WINGED WORSHIPPERS; ADDRESSED TO TWO SWALLOWS .. DURING SERVICE by CHARLES SPRAGUE SOLOMON SCHECHTER by ALTER ABELSON EARLY DEATH AND FAME by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE OLD KIRK YARD by THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY THE BRIDES' TRAGEDY: ACT 3, SCENE 2 by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES PSALM 127 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |