Pass forth, my wonted cries, Those cruel ears to pierce, Which in most hateful wise Do still my plaints reverse. Do you, my tears, also So wet her barren heart, That pity there may grow And cruelty depart. For though hard rocks among She seems to have been bred, And of the tiger long Been nourished and fed, Yet shall that nature change, If pity once win place, Whom as unknown and strange She now away doth chase. And as the water soft, Without forcing or strength, Where that it falleth oft, Hard stones doth pierce at length, So in her stony heart My plaints at last shall grave, And, rigor set apart, Win grant of that I crave. Wherefore, my plaints, present Still so to her my suit, As ye, through her assent, May bring to me some fruit; And as she shall me prove, So bid her me regard, And render love for love, Which is a just reward. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ALEXANDER'S FEAST; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC by JOHN DRYDEN THE DAUGHTER OF MENDOZA by MIRABEAU BONAPARTE LAMAR EPISTLES ON THE CHARACTER AND CONDITION OF WOMEN: 2 by LUCY AIKEN BUILDING BLOCKS by VIRGINIA A. ALLIN TO DR. AIKIN by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SONG, FR. A VISION OF GIOGIONE: GEMMA'S SONG ON THE WATER by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |