Classic Poem

Idea - 36

36

Thou purblind Boy, since thou hast beene so slacke,
To wound her Heart, whose Eyes have wounded me,
And suff'red her to glory in my Wracke,
Thus to my aid, I lastly conjure thee;
By Hellish Styx (by which the T HUND'RER sweares)
By thy faire Mothers unavoided Power,
By H ECAT'S Names, by P ROSERPINE'S sad Teares,
When she was rapt to the infernall Bower;
By thine owne loved Psyches , by the Fires
Spent on thine Altars, flaming up to Heav'n;
By all true Lovers Sighes, Vowes, and Desires,
By all the Wounds that ever thou hast giv'n;
 I conjure thee by all that I have nam'd,
 To make her love, or C UPID be thou damn'd.Englishlove poemlove poemslove poems for herlove poetrypoems about loveromantic poems