Reign in my thoughts, fair hand, sweet eye, rare voice, Possess me whole, my heart's triumvirate; Yet heavy heart! to make so hard a choice Of such as spoil thy poor afflicted state; For whilst they strive which shall be lord of all, All my poor life by them is trodden down; They all erect their trophies on my fall, And yield me nought that gives them their renown. When back I look, I sigh my freedom past, And wail the state wherein I present stand, And see my fortune ever like to last, Finding me reined with such a heavy hand. What can I do but yield, and yield I do, And serve all three, and yet they spoil me too. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 6. HYMN TO CHEERFULNESS by MARK AKENSIDE THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 3. EXERCISE by JOHN ARMSTRONG THE ASYLUM by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE TRYST OF THE NIGHT by MAY (MARY) CLARISSA GILLINGTON BYRON DREAM OF PEACE by LILA B. CARHART |