MY dunnes that untoe dizains give smalle care, Did read your owne. Wheron I say'd, "You see, My noble Michael, noble Luckyfare, The Kynge's owne sister doth soe honour me." Straightwaye they deemed me of stabilitie, And rained "Your worships" and "Respected Sirs." Thus was your script to me as golden ore, For they did promise respyte—nay, they swore To let me fill—for promise—my purse While I did sweare to borrowe—as before. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPODE: 2. THE PRAISES OF A COUNTRY LIFE by QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS IN MEMORY OF WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE FOR THERE IS NO HELP IN THEM by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE THEME AND THE PUPPET by LETA GRACE BORLAND TIME'S REVENGES by ROBERT BROWNING THE STREET OF THE MANY LITTLE LOVERS by MAXWELL STRUTHERS BURT ENTERTAINMENT GIVEN BY LORD KNOWLES: SONG OF THREE VOICES by THOMAS CAMPION |