Sunday, March 20, 2016
Sunday Poetry - Lord Thomas Howard
With sorrowful sighs and wounds smart
My heart is pierced suddenly.
To mourn of right it is my part,
To weep, to fail full grievously.
The bitter tears doth me constrain,
Although that I would it eschew,
To wite of them that doth disdain
Faithful lovers that be so true.
The one of us from the other they do absent,
Which unto us is a deadly wound,
Seeing we love in this intent:
In God's laws for to be bound.
With sighs deep my heart is pressed,
Enduring of great pains among,
To see her daily whom I love best
In great and intolerable sorrows strong.
There doth not live no loving heart
But will lament our grievous woe
And pray to God to ease our smart
And shortly together that we may go.