Thomas Wyatt (Томас Уайетт)

The Furious Gun

The furious gun in his raging ire,
When that the bowl is rammed in too sore
And that the flame cannot part from the fire,
Cracketh in sunder, and in the air doth roar
The shivered pieces; right so doth my desire,
Whose flame increaseth from more to more,
Which to let out I dare not look or speak;
So now hard force my heart doth all to break. 

1. I Abide and Abide and Better Abide
2. With Serving Still
3. Alas Madam for Stealing of a Kiss
4. Since so Ye Please
5. In Spain

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1698

Последние стихотворения

To English version