Today poems :-)
Ah Lindamira, could you see my heart,
How fond, how true, how free from fraudful art,
The warmest glances poorly do explain
The eager wish, the melting throbbing pain
Which through my very blood and soul I feel,
Which you cannot believe nor I reveal,
Which every metaphor must render less
And yet (methinks) which I could well express
......between your sheets.
Between your sheets you soundly sleep
Nor dream of vigils that we lovers keep
While all the night, I waking sigh your name,
The tender sound does every nerve inflame,
Imagination shows me all your charms,
The plenteous silken hair, and waxen arms,
And all the beauties that supinely rest
.....Between Your Sheets by Lady Mary Wortley Mantagu (1689-1762)
Love is a bog, a deep bog, a wide bog.
Love is a clog, a great clog, a close clog.
'Tis a wilderness to lose ourselves.
...Then draw Dun out o' the mire
...And throw the clog into the fire.
...Keep in the King's Highway,
...And sober, you cannot stray.
Then if you admire no female elf
The halter may go hang itself.
Drink wine and be merry, for love is a folly
And dwells in the house of melancholy.
.....Love is a bog by James Shirley
No comments:
Post a Comment
All comments will be moderated and then will be posted.