Ah! why hath Nature to so hard a hart Given so goodly giftes of beauties grace, Whose pryde depraves each other better part, And all those pretious ornaments deface? Sith to all other beastes of bloody race A dreadfull countenaunce she given hath, That with theyr terrour al the rest may chace, And warne to shun the daunger of theyr wrath. But my proud one doth worke the greater scath, Through sweet allurement of her lovely hew, That she the better may in bloody bath Of such poore thralls her cruell hands embrew. But did she know how ill these two accord, Such cruelty she would have soone abhord. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHERE A ROMAN VILLA STOOD, ABOVE FREIBURG' by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE THE FARMER'S BRIDE by CHARLOTTE MEW WITCH-WIFE by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY ON BURNING A DULL POEM; WRITTEN IN 1729 by JONATHAN SWIFT THE METAMORPHOSIS OF THE WALNUT-TREE OF BOARSTELL: CANTO 2 by WILLIAM BASSE |