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Richard Lovelace (Ричард Лавлейс)


Oreheus To Woods


Heark! Oh heark! you guilty trees,
In whose gloomy galleries
Was the cruell'st murder done,
That e're yet eclipst the sunne.
Be then henceforth in your twigges
Blasted, e're you sprout to sprigges;
Feele no season of the yeere,
But what shaves off all your haire,
Nor carve any from your wombes
Ought but coffins and their tombes. 



Richard Lovelace's other poems:
  1. To Lucasta, I Laugh And Sing
  2. A Fly Caught In A Cobweb
  3. Upon the Curtain of Lucasta's Picture, It was Thus Wrought
  4. Cupid Far Gone
  5. The Vintage to the Dungeon


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