* * * My most Distinguished Guest and Learned Friend, The pallid hare that runs before the day Having brought your earnest counsels to an end Now have I somewhat of my own to say: That it is folly to be sunk in love, And madness plain to make the matter known, There are no mysteries you are verger of; Everyman’s wisdoms these are, and my own. If I have flung my heart unto a hound I have done ill, it is a certain thing; Yet breathe I freer, walk I the more sound On my sick bones for this brave reasoning? Soon must I say, ” ’Tis prowling Death I hear!” Yet come no better off, for my quick ear. |
English Poetry - http://eng-poetry.ru/english/index.php. E-mail eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |