Poem 97 Poem by Edmund Spenser
Poem 97
Rating: ★2.5
THe wanton boy was shortly wel recured,
of that his malady:
But he soone after fresh againe enured,
his former cruelty.
And since that time he wounded hath my selfe
with his sharpe dart of loue:
And now forgets the cruell carelesse elfe,
his mothers heast to proue.
So now I languish till he please,
my pining anguish to appease.
Tuesday, December 31, 2002
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4/25/2024 5:18:43 AM # 1.0.0.1119
