Who hath heard of such cruelty before? That when my plaint remembered her my woe That caused it, she, cruel more and more Wished each stitch, as she did sit and sew, Had pricked mine heart, for to increase my sore; And, as I think, she thought it had been so, For as she thought, "This is his heart indeed," She pricked hard and made herself to bleed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUTH PENETRANT by CONRAD AIKEN LONELY BURIAL by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET PLACE FOR A THIRD by ROBERT FROST THE WILLOW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE DAY OF THE DEAD SOLDIERS; MARY 30, 1869 by EMMA LAZARUS TO HELEN KELLER - HUMANITARIAN, SOCIAL DEMOCRAT, GREAT SOUL by EDWIN MARKHAM |