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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...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. KESSLER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE BURIAL OF BOSTON CORBETT (ONE WARDEN TO ANOTHER) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A FRAGMENT by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE CASTLE OF CHILLON by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON TWO RED ROSES ACROSS THE MOON by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) THE GLORY OF ALL ENGLAND by EDWARD WILLIAM BOK ON THE RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARLES, LORD HERBERT by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) COLUMBUS, THE DISCOVERER by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |
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