Fly, O fly sad Sigh, and bear

These few Words into his Ear;

Blest where e'r thou dost remain,

Worthier of a softer chain,

Still I live, if it be true

The Turtle lives that's cleft in two:

Tears and Sorrows I have store,

But O thine do grieve me more;

Dye I would, but that I do

Fear my Fate would kill thee too.

Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.