The answer that ye made to me, my dear, When I did sue for my poor heart's redress, Hath so appall'd my countenance and my cheer That in this case I am all comfortless, Since I of blame no cause can well express. I have no wrong where I can claim no right, Nought ta'en me fro where I have nothing had, Yet of my woe I cannot so be quite: Namely, since that another may be glad, With that that thus in sorrow makes me sad. Nor none can claim, I say, by former grant That knoweth not of any grant at all; And by desert, I dare well make avaunt, Of faithful will there is nowhere that shall Bear you more truth, more ready at your call. Now good then call again that bitter word That touch'd your friend so near with pangs of pain, And say, my dear, that it was said in bourd: Late, or too soon, let it not rule the gain Wherewith free will doth true desert retain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITANY OF THE DARK PEOPLE by COUNTEE CULLEN DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 6. SUNSET IN THE TROPICS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: CONVOY ESCORT by RUDYARD KIPLING THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 7 by OMAR KHAYYAM FROM THE ANTIQUE (1) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE MAN WHO DREAMED OF FAERYLAND by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS STANZAS ON FINDING THE KEY OF AN OLD PIANO by E. JUSTINE BAYARD |