Sufficed not, madam, that you did tear My woeful heart, but thus also to rent The weeping paper that to you I sent, Whereof each letter was written with a tear. Could not my present pains, alas, suffice Your greedy heart, and that my heart doth feel Torments that prick more sharper than the steel But new and new must to my lot arise? Use then my death. So shall your cruelty, Spite of your spite, rid me from all my smart, And I no more such torments of the heart Feel as I do. This shalt thou gain thereby. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SNOW-SHOWER by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE CHARACTER OF A GOOD PARSON by GEOFFREY CHAUCER A SONNET by JAMES KENNETH STEPHEN IN EMULATION OF MR. COWLEYS POEM CALL'D THE MOTTO by MARY ASTELL THE OPTIMIST AND THE PESSIMIST; A DIALOGUE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |