Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SICK LOVER, by THOMAS STANLEY

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THE SICK LOVER, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: My sickly breath
Last Line: Ah, why then should the pain be mine?

MY sickly breath
Wastes in a double flame;
Whilst Love and Death
To my poor life lay claim;
The fever, in whose heat I melt,
By her that causeth it not felt.

Thou who alone
Canst, yet wilt grant no ease,
Why slight'st thou one
To feed a new disease?
Unequal fair! the heart is thine;
Ah, why then should the pain be mine?

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