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Peace Restored You virgins, that did late despair To keep your wealth from cruel men, Tie up in silk your careless hair: Soft peace is come again. Now lovers' eyes may gently shoot A flame that will not kill; The drum was angry, but the lute Shall whisper what you will. Sing Io, Io! for his sake That hath restored your drooping heads; With choice of sweetest flowers make A garden where he treads; Whilst we whole groves of laurel bring, A petty triumph for his brow, Who is the master of our spring And all the bloom we owe. James Shirley's other poems: ![]() Количество обращений к стихотворению: 717 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |