Poetry Explorer


Classic and Contemporary Poetry


THE MISER by IBN SA'ID OF ALCALA LA REAL

First Line: IT PAINS ME LESS, TO STAND
Last Line: THE CRACKS UPON ITS FACE!

It pains me less, to stand
And bid my love adieu
Than meanly, cap in hand,
The miser to pursue.

The moon aspires to ape
The sun's refulgent grace,
But vainly: see, agape,
The cracks upon its face!



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