Tixall Poetry/Dispaire ("How severe is fate…")

by unknown author

XL.

Dispaire.

 

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How severe is fate, to breake a hart
 That never went a roving;
To torture it with endlesse smart,
 For only constant loving.

I bleed, I bleed, I melt away,
 And wash my watry pillow;
I walke the woods alone all day,
 And wrap me round in willow.

 

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