Whyle I was abowte to chaunge myn olde lyff-- What sorowe I suffred, dyseese, angre and stryff,... Cracchynge myn here, my chekys all totare, Wrythynge my fyngres for angwysshe and care, Watrynge the erthe with my byttre salte teres That the crye of my syghes ascended to Goddys eres, My knees with myn handys grasped togedyre soore, And yitt I stode the same man I was afore Tyl a depe profounde remembraunce att the laste Hadd all my wrecchednesse afore myn eyn casteLESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The eyes that drew from me such fervent praise, The arms and hands and feet and countenance... Which made me a stranger in my own romance And set me apart from the well-trodden ways;LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
My flowery and green age was passing away, and I feeling a chill in the fires had been wasting my heart, for I was drawing ne...ar the hillside above the grave.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Go, grieving rimes of mine, to that hard stone Whereunder lies my darling, lies my dear,... And cry to her to speak from heaven's sphere.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Oh, may she deign to stand at my bedside When I come to die; and may she call to me... And draw me to her in the blessed place!LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Great is my envy of you, earth, in your greed Folding her in invisible embrace,... Denying me the look of the sweet face Where I found peace from all my strife at need!LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
And I live on, but in grief and self-contempt, Left here without the light I loved so much,... In a great tempest and with shrouds unkempt.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »