Was I never yet of your love grieved

XII

Was I never yet of your love grieved
Nor never shall while that my life doth last.
But of hating myself that date is past,
And tears continual sore have me wearied.
I will not yet in my grave be buried
Nor on my tomb your name yfixed fast
As cruel cause that did the spirit soon haste
From th'unhappy bones by great sighs stirred.
Then if an heart of amorous faith and will
May content you without doing grief,
Please it you so to this to do relief.
If otherwise ye seek for to fulfil
Your disdain, ye err and shall not as ye ween,
And ye yourself the cause thereof hath been.
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.