Good Brother @3Brooke@1, I often looke, to heare of your returne: But none can tell, if you be well, nor where you doo sojurne: Which makes me feare, that I shall heare your health appaired is: And oft I dread, that you are dead, or somthyng goeth amys. Yet when I thinke, you can not shrinke, but must with Maister bee: I have good hope, when you have scope, you wyll repaire to mee. And so the feare, and deepe dispaire, that I of you then had I dryve away: and wysh that day wherin we may be glad. Glad for to see, but els for mee: wyll be no joy at all: For on my side, no lucke will byde, nor happye chaunce befall. As you shall know, for I wyll show, you more when we doo speake, Then wyll I wryt, or yet resyte, within this Paper weake. And so I end, and you commend, to him that guides the skyes: Who graunt you health, and send you welth, no lesse then shall suffice. * @3Your loving Sister. Is. W.@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RIGS O' BARLEY by ROBERT BURNS EVENING SONG OF THE TYROLESE PEASANTS by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS WHAT THE THRUSH SAID by JOHN KEATS THE ARROW AND THE SONG by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW I SHALL LIVE TO BE OLD by SARA TEASDALE HESPERIDES by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |