Category: Poetry
I am so weary with the burden old Of foregone faults, and power of custom base, That much I fear to perish from the ways, And fall into my enemy’s grim fold. True, a high friend, to free me, not with gold, Came, of ineffable and utmost grace-- Then straightway vanished from be...
The elect angels and the souls in bliss, The citizens of heaven, when, that first day, My lady passed from me and went their way, Of marvel and pity full, did round her press. “...
1. Chapter 1I am so weary with the burden old Of foregone faults, and power of custom base, That much I fear to perish from the ways, And fall into my enemy’s grim fold. True, a high friend...