My bodye goes; I leave wyth thee my heart. Ladye most deare, fare-well till I ryde home. Ah! woe is me that I soe far must roam: My bodye goes; I leave wyth thee my heart. But sweet remembrances shall soothe the smarte All the sad whyle till back to thee I come: My bodye goes; I leave wyth thee my heart. Ladye most deare, fare-well till I ryde home. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: A SUBTERRANEAN CITY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE FIGHT AT SAN JACINTO [APRIL 21, 1836] by JOHN WILLIAMSON PALMER AT FLORENCE by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |