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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


SONNET by PHILIPPE DESPORTES

First Line: DRESS YOUR GOLD LOCKS, MAKE SOFT YOUR AZURE EYES
Last Line: TO ERR A SECOND TIME IS NE'ER EXCUSED.

DRESS your gold locks, make soft your azure eyes,
Let your red lips enchanting projects feign;
Call heaven to witness, heave deceitful sighs,
Weep, act howe'er you will, your hopes are vain.

I will return no more, such frantic cries,
So many days consumed in direst pain,
To end in anguish when we met again,
Will, for the future, guard me from surprise.

Experience teaches, grief has wisdom taught,
How cursed the wretch by fickle woman caught,
Entrapt by luring speeches that beguile.

No, no! If by sweet words again abused,
Pardon nor pity let me then receive:
To err a second time is ne'er excused.



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