For want I will in woe I plain, Under colour of soberness; Renewing with my suit my pain, My wanhope with your steadfastness. Awake therefore of gentleness; Regard, at length, I you require, The swelting pains of my desire. Betimes who giveth willingly, Redoubled thanks aye doth deserve; And I, that sue unfeignedly In fruitless hope, alas, do sterve. How great my cause is for to swerve, And yet how steadfast is my suit, Lo, here ye see: where is the fruit? As hound that hath his keeper lost, Seek I your presence to obtain, In which my heart delighteth most, And shall delight though I be slain. You may release my band of pain; Loose then the care that makes me cry For what of help, or else I die. I die, though not incontinent, By process yet consumingly As waste of fire which doth relent, If you as wilful will deny. Wherefore cease of such cruelty, And take me wholly in your grace, Which lacketh will to change his place. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ESTRANGEMENT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON PERSPECTIVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON CHAMBER MUSIC: 9 by JAMES JOYCE TO GOD THE FATHER by KATHERINE MANSFIELD SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: IMANUEL EHRENHARDT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: IPPOLIT KONOVALOFF by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |