1. I Little thought, thou fond ingratefull Sinne, When first I let thee in, And gave thee but a part In my unwary Heart, That thou wouldst ere have grown, So false or strong to make it all thine owne. 2. At mine own brest with care I fed thee still, Letting thee suck thy fill, And daintily I nourisht Thee With Idle thoughts and Poetrie! What ill Returnes dost thou allow? I fed thee then, and thou dost sterve me now. 3. There was a time, when thou wast cold and chill, Nor hadst the power of doing ill; Into my bosome did I take, This frozen and benummed Snake, Not fearing from it any harme, But now it stings that breast that made it warme. 4. What cursed weed's this Love! but one grain sow And the whole field 'twill over-grow; Strait will it choak up and devour Each wholesome herbe and beauteous flowre! Nay unlesse something soon I doe, T'will kill I fear my very Lawrell too. 5. But now all's gone, I now, alas, complain, Declare, protest, and threat in vain. Since by my owne unfore't consent, The Traitour has my Government, And is so setled in the Throne, That t'were Rebellion now to claim mine owne. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RIGHT MARY by CLARIBEL WEEKS AVERY SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 37. NAPOLEON AT ST. HELENA by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE ROSEBUSH AND THE TRINITY by ALFRED BARRETT THE LIVING BOOK by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES THE EMBRYO by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 101. AGE: 2 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT JOB THE WHITE by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN SONG OF THE COLONISTS DEPARTING FOR NEW ZEALAND by THOMAS CAMPBELL |