Harden now thy tyred hart with more then flinty rage; Ne'er let her false teares henceforth thy constant griefe asswage. Once true happy dayes thou saw'st, when shee stood firme and kinde, Both as one then liv'd, and held one eare, one tongue, one minde. But now those bright houres be fled, and never may returne: What then remaines, but her untruths to mourne? Silly Tray-tresse, who shall now thy carelesse tresses place? Who thy pretty talke supply? whose eare thy musicke grace? Who shall thy bright eyes admire? what lips triumph with thine? Day by day who'll visit thee and say, th' art onely mine? Such a time there was, God wot, but such shall never be; Too oft, I feare, thou wilt remember me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOVER PLEADS WITH HIS FRIENDS FOR OLD FRIENDS by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 1 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI FEELINGS OF A REPUBLICAN ON THE FALL OF BONAPARTE by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE FORD OF TRANSFIGURATION by WILLIAM ROSE BENET PIONEERS OF DETROIT by LEVI BISHOP MORTALITY by GAMALIEL BRADFORD |