As I lay sleeping, In dremes fleeting, Ever my sweeting Is in my mind: She is so goodly, With locks so lovely, Like to her surely Such none can find. Her beauty so pure, It doth under lure My poor heart full sure In governaunce: Therefore will I Unto her apply And ever will cry For remembraunce. Alas, will not she Now shew her pitye, But thus will take me In such disdain. Methinketh, iwis, Unkind she is That bindeth me thus In such hard pain. Though she me bind, Yet shall she not find My poor heart unkind, Do what she can: For I will her pray, Whiles I leve a day, Me to take for aye For her owne man. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE USES OF POETRY by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE SUPPLIANT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON POLLY BE-EN UPZIDES WI' TOM by WILLIAM BARNES THE COMBAT, BETWEENE CONSCIENCE AND COVETOUSNESSE by RICHARD BARNFIELD NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 10 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |