On the day 5 of the Blog chatter’s
#WRITEAPAGEADAY, Here is a poem with love as the major theme.
Poet: Michael Drayton
Poem: TO HIS COY LOVE
I pray thee, leave, love me no more,
Call home
the heart you gave me!
I but in vain that saint adore
That can
but will not save me.
These poor half-kisses kill me quite—
Was ever
man thus servèd?
Amidst an ocean of delight
For
pleasure to be starvèd?
Show me no more those snowy breasts
With azure
riverets branchèd,
Where, whilst mine eye with plenty feasts,
Yet is my
thirst not stanchèd;
O Tantalus, thy pains ne'er tell!
By me thou
art prevented:
'Tis nothing to be plagued in Hell,
But thus in
Heaven tormented.
Clip me no more in those dear arms,
Nor thy
life's comfort call me,
O these are but too powerful charms,
And do but
more enthral me!
But see how patient I am grown
In all this
coil about thee:
Come, nice thing, let my heart alone,
I cannot
live without thee!
Michael Drayton is one of the most
astonishing writers of his time. He is the
first to write odes in English in the manner of Horace. His versatility was amazing and there is scarcely
any side of poetic craftsmanship which he could not tackle with success. As an
historical poet he may be regarded as the Scott of his age, and his BALLAD OF
AGINCOURT is a splendid specimen of its kind.
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