RICH, thou hadst many lovers;--poor, hast none: So surely want extinguishes the flame, And she who called thee once her pretty one, And her Adonis, now inquires thy name. Where wast thou born, Sosicrates, and where, In what strange country, can thy parents live, Who seem'st, by thy complaints, not yet aware That want's a crime no woman can forgive? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COUNTRY SUMMER by LEONIE ADAMS ON LIVING, FROM LIFE IS A DREAM by PEDRO CALDERON DE LA BARCA SOTTO VOCE; TO EDWARD THOMAS by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE ELEGY TO THE MEMORY OF AN UNFORTUNATE LADY by ALEXANDER POPE THE SOLITARY REAPER by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE SLEEPY SONG by JOSEPHINE DODGE DASKAM BACON THE LAY OF ST. CUTHBERT; OR THE DEVIL'S DINNER-PARTY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |