For pity, pretty eyes, surcease To give me war, and grant me peace! Triumphant eyes, why bear you arms Against a heart that thinks no harms, A heart already quite appalled, A heart that yields and is enthralled? Kill rebels, proudly that resist; Not those that in true faith persist And, conquered, serve your deity. Will you, alas, command me die? Then die I yours, and death my cross; But unto you pertains the loss. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |