Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO HIS RIVALL, by MICHAEL DRAYTON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO HIS RIVALL, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Her lov'd I most
Last Line: And helpe to beare you out, sir.
Subject(s): Love - Loss Of


Her lov'd I most,
By thee that's lost,
Though she were wonne with leasure;
She was my gaine,
But to my paine,
Thou spoyl'st me of my Treasure.

The Ship full fraught
With Gold, farre sought,
Though ne'r so wisely helmed,
May suffer wracke
In sayling backe,
By Tempest over-whelmed.

But shee, good Sir,
Did not preferre
You, for that I was ranging;
But for that shee
Found faith in mee,
And she lov'd to be changing.

Therefore boast not
Your happy Lot,
Be silent now you have her;
The time I knew
She slighted you,
When I was in her favour.

None stands so fast,
But may be cast
By Fortune, and disgraced:
Once did I weare
Her Garter there,
Where you her Glove have placed.

I had the Vow
That thou hast now,
And Glances to discover
Her Love to mee,
And she to thee
Reades but old Lessons over.

She hath no Smile
That can beguile,
But as my Thought I know it;
Yea, to a Hayre,
Both when and where,
And how she will bestow it.

What now is thine,
Was onely mine,
And first to me was given;
Thou laugh'st at mee,
I laugh at thee,
And thus we two are even.

But Ile not mourne,
But stay my Turne,
The Wind may come about, Sir,
And once againe
May bring me in,
And helpe to beare you out, sir.





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