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Anonymous ( Неизвестный автор) * * * NOW, Robin, lend to me thy bow, Sweet Robin, lend to me thy bow; For I must now a hunting with my lady go, With my sweet lady go. And whither will thy lady go? Sweet Wilkin, tell it unto me; And thou shalt have my hawk, my hound, and eke my bow, To wait on thy ladye. My lady will to Uppingham, To Uppingham, forsooth, will she; And I myself appointed for to be the man To wait on my ladye. Adieu, good Wilkin, all beshrewd, Thy hunting nothing pleaseth me; But yet beware thy babbling hounds stray not abroad, For angering of thy ladye. My hounds shall be led in the line, So well I can assure it thee; Unless by view of strain some pursue I may find, To please my sweet ladye. With that the lady she came in, And willed them all for to agree; For honest hunting never was accounted sin, Nor never shall for me. Anonymous's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1209 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |