Amour 43
Why doe I speake of ioy, or write of loue, When my hart is the very Den of horror, And in my soule the paynes of hell I proue, With all his torments and infernall terror? Myne eyes want teares thus to bewayle my woe, My brayne is dry with weeping all too long; My sighes be spent with griefe and sighing so, And I want words for to expresse my wrong. But still, distracted in loues lunacy, And Bedlam like thus rauing in my griefe, Now rayle vpon her hayre, now on her eye, Now call her Goddesse, then I call her thiefe; Now I deny her, then I doe confesse her, Now I doe curse her, then againe I blesse her.
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"Why doe I speake of ioy, or write of loue,..."
This evocative piece by Michael Drayton, titled "Amour 43", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...