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Edward Herbert (Эдуард Герберт (Херберт)) Love's End Thus ends my Love, but this doth grieve me most, That so it ends, but that ends too, this yet, Besides the Wishes, hopes and time I lost, Troubles my mind awhile, that I am set Free, worse then denied: I can neither boast Choice nor success, as my Case is, nor get Pardon from myself; that I loved not A better Mistress, or her worse; this Debt Only's her due, still, that she be forgot Ere chang'd, lest I love none; this done, the taint Of foul Inconstancy is clear'd at least In me, there only rests but to unpaint Her form in my mind, that so dispossest It be a Temple, but without a Saint. Edward Herbert's other poems:
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |