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Giles Fletcher the Elder (Джайлз Флетчер Старший)


Licia Sonnets 8


Hard are the rocks, the marble, and the steel,
The ancient oak with wind and weather tossed;
But you, my love, far harder do I feel
Than flint, or these, or is the winter's frost.
My tears too weak, your heart they cannot move;
My sighs, that rock, like wind it cannot rent;
Too tiger-like you swear you cannot love;
But tears and sighs you fruitless back have sent.
The frost too hard, not melted with my flame,
I cinders am, and yet you feel no heat.
Surpass not these, sweet love, for very shame,
But let my tears, my vows, my sighs entreat;
Then shall I say as I by trial find;
These all are hard, but you, my love, are kind.



Giles Fletcher the Elder's other poems:
  1. Licia Sonnets 10
  2. Licia Sonnets 43
  3. Licia Sonnets 25
  4. Licia Sonnets 6
  5. Licia Sonnets 20


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