WHEN I entreat, either thou wilt not hear, Or else my suit arriving at thy ear Cools and dies there. A strange extremity! To freeze i' th' Sun, and in the shade to fry. Whilst all my blasted hopes decline so soon, 'Tis evening with me, though at high noon. For pity to thyself, if not to me, Think time will ravish, what I lose, from thee. If my scorch'd heart wither through thy delay, Thy beauty withers too. And swift decay Arrests thy youth. So thou whilst I am slighted Wilt be too soon with age or sorrow nighted. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A ROUGH RHYME ON A ROUGH MATTER; THE ENGLISH GAME LAWS by CHARLES KINGSLEY MODERN LOVE: 17 by GEORGE MEREDITH IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 96 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE DOOMED MAN by JOSEPH ADDISON ALEXANDER THE BRIGHT ASSASSIN by WILLIAM ROSE BENET TO ALEX. CUNNINGHAM, WRITER by ROBERT BURNS EPIGRAM ON THE BRAZIERS' COMPANY HAVING RESOLVED by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |