More Poems

And when I think, I do suppose
that in the style of her clothes
and hair and smile lies dear heart's repose
yet lives she onward within my prose.

There are no orbs I'd rather see,
than those two globes that, upon me,
do gaze ever so intently.

As I think, as my mind often does,
on the movement of her clothes
as she walks, comes and goes,
her grace astounds me, how they flow!

I
[All in my pow'r that I can give,
I shall willingly sacrifice
as it shall show that I did
in noble battle with cockatrice
for your holiness reverend

in harsh times I did defend
they bountiful land and boundless grace
my sword and mind were often lent
in protection of this num'nous space
all for you Lady Venus

II

now doth my heart, like a furnace,
burn and so
long for this love. Make it not lust
nor profane it. 'stead let it grow
and all my life this new epoch.

this feeling in my stomach,
tumultuous as the sea,
for thine child, lady, hath stuck
his vicious arrow in me
this please to you I present:

III

in my love for her lies treason,
I know! Howe'er unrequited
it may be, my lover's descent
has not yet left me full of spite
nor has my dear love's coldness of heart

dear mistress, make me not scarred
not with they holy wrath me leave.
do not split we two apart
and a rift 'twixt us do not cleave
nay, for she be all I lacked.

IV

and though her silks never liquefact
not are there limpid pools within her eyes
near her do I lose all artful tact
and then aloud begins my heart to cry:
"What beauty profound see I in this love!"

carefully did I my heart probe
so as to know myself this love was true
now wish I to be, upon that hand, a glove
so should I be able to
but once graze her cheek

V

dear lady, my soul be too weak
for me to you, to be of any use,
so I bed you: grant me what I seek
for my soul cannot bear such abuse
for very much longer.

as I see her more, fonder
grows my sinful soul
as with her, my bond grows stronger
betraying you, leaves me full of dole,
please forgive my treason.]




On Echo
Wherefore can I not you reach
with my incessant calls?
You love another, of this I'm sure,
yet this can I accept.
I love you so, beautiful one,
and you can only gaze
into those wretched limpid pools
as you do so waste away.
Pining always for what you see
looking back intently at yourself
as I follow you to Earth's ends
and hang on every word!
Your love is unrequited too,
as mine has so long been,
and never shall your reflection love you,
nor my repetitions reach you.