Harden now thy tyred hart with more then flinty rage; Ne'er let her false teares henceforth thy constant griefe asswage. Once true happy dayes thou saw'st, when shee stood firme and kinde, Both as one then liv'd, and held one eare, one tongue, one minde. But now those bright houres be fled, and never may returne: What then remaines, but her untruths to mourne? Silly Tray-tresse, who shall now thy carelesse tresses place? Who thy pretty talke supply? whose eare thy musicke grace? Who shall thy bright eyes admire? what lips triumph with thine? Day by day who'll visit thee and say, th' art onely mine? Such a time there was, God wot, but such shall never be; Too oft, I feare, thou wilt remember me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A MAN'S VOCATION IS NOBODY'S BUSINESS by JAMES GALVIN TO SEE THE STARS IN DAYLIGHT by JAMES GALVIN THE BLACK RUNNER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ITALIAN PICTURES: COSTA MAGIC by MINA LOY CORTEGE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON MODERN PARAPHRASE OF SHAKESPEARE'S SONNET 29 by GEORGE SANTAYANA |