Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SONNET, by ETIENNE DE LA BOETIE First Line: Many say of me, why does he complain Last Line: Meanwhile, who grief forbid should give relief. | ||||||||
MANY say of me, why does he complain, Losing his best years for so slight an ill? Why mourn so loud, if hope he harbours still; If nought he hopes, why not content remain? When whole and free, I used the selfsame strain, But surely he has little wit or skill, Or else his heart do pride and malice fill, Who blames my grief, but reckons not my pain. Love, with a hundred pangs, has stabbed me through, And still they bid me my complaints subdue. I'm not so mad as to increase my grief By speaking. Only my lost peace restore, Sonnets and songs I quit for evermore; Meanwhile, who grief forbid should give relief. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BROTHER JONATHAN'S LAMENT FOR SISTER CAROLINE [DECEMBER 2O, 1860] by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES DAUGHTERS OF WAR by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 4. LOVESIGHT by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI A WEEK IN A BOY'S LIFE by JACQUES BOE THE NEW ANTHEM by NORMAN BOLKER AT SHAKESPEARE'S GRAVE by IRVING BROWNE THERE IS NO DEATH by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON EPISTLE TO HUGH PARKER by ROBERT BURNS |
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