Love doth again Put me to pain And yet all is but lost, I serve in vain And am certain Of all misliked most. Both heat and cold Doth so me hold And cumber so my mind, That when I should Speak and behold It driveth me still behind. My wits be past, My life doth waste, My comfort is exiled, And I in haste Am like to taste How love hath me beguiled. Unless that right May in her sight Obtain pity and grace, Why should a wight Have beauty bright If mercy have no place? Yet I, alas, Am in such case That back I cannot go, But still forth trace A patient pace And suffer secret woe. For with the wind My fired mind Doth still inflame; And she unkind That did me bind Doth turn it all to game. Yet can no pain Make me refrain Nor here and there to range; I shall retain Hope to obtain Her heart that is so strange. But I require The painful fire That oft doth make me sweat, For all my ire, With like desire To give her heart a heat. Then shall she prove How I her love And what I have offered, Which should her move For to remove The pains that I have suffered. And better fee Than she gave me She shall of me attain. For whereas she Showed cruelty, She shall my heart obtain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FLUTE-PRIEST SONG FOR RAIN; CEREMONIAL AT THE SUN SPRING by AMY LOWELL THE MIDDLETON PLACE by AMY LOWELL THE MAN WITH THE HOE OUTWITTED by EDWIN MARKHAM DON JUAN'S SONG by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE WALKING MAN OF RODIN by CARL SANDBURG AFTER PARTING by SARA TEASDALE |