She's acacian...

976
  0%
  0

Tags

She’s acacian; her graces of sticky tribe, Will catch at your heart like bristled eglantine, The sap of your fondness suck as juice from grapevine, And demoistured thus, spit you out in a diatribe! Thus’ve bonnie wenches used marshy-e...

She’s acacian; her graces of sticky tribe,

Will catch at your heart like bristled eglantine,

The sap of your fondness suck as juice from grapevine,

And demoistured thus, spit you out in a diatribe!

Thus’ve bonnie wenches used marshy-eyed suitors oft,

Who themselves abying cursed fate creep with grimed eft

Back to poisonous ponds ventured from to eye this light:

And lovelorn returned, grub them waterlogged graves there right!

                Yet do not so my love, whose troth full I possess,

                As the rich-bosomed skies wouldst commute their chest for earth’s largess!

                                ********************************

Never buttercup coned in safe the slender-spanned dew

In its cup, nor roaring jest was tamed in wag’s nowl,

Nor more warm butterbur’s fur caped her where feline frosts did howl,

One half so fond as in her dotery dawn-new

My mistress me cupcones, tames, capes; and evergreen!

But now strayed away by mistake where her sweetness sleeps,

In selflike instant stirs she wings and spies me like peregrine;

And grows something careworn of me, as summer oxlips!

                And still despite of this incalculable wealth she yields me,

                Lumber I earth cholered, like lop-eared curs collared in injury:

                                *******************************

                For, meknows, this god-maid lent poor earth, heaven the usurer,

                How dearer in expense grows, closer bankrupt the borrower!

Global Scriggler.DomainModel.Publication.Visibility
There's more where that came from!