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Poem by William Dunbar


To a Lady


SWEET rois of vertew and of gentilness,
Delytsum lily of everie lustynes,
   Richest in bontie and in bewtie clear,
   And everie vertew that is wenit dear,
Except onlie that ye are mercyless

Into your garth this day I did persew;
There saw I flowris that fresche were of hew;
   Baith quhyte and reid most lusty were to seyne,
   And halesome herbis upon stalkis greene;
Yet leaf nor flowr find could I nane of rew.

I doubt that Merche, with his cauld blastis keyne,
Has slain this gentil herb, that I of mene;
   Quhois piteous death dois to my heart sic paine
   That I would make to plant his root againe,--
So confortand his levis unto me bene. 



William Dunbar


William Dunbar's other poems:
  1. To the King [In hansill of this guid New Yeir]
  2. Sir Thomas Norny
  3. Love's Inconstancy
  4. The Ballad of Kynd Kittock
  5. None May Assure in This World


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Thomas Hardy To a Lady ("NOW that my page upcloses, doomed, maybe")
  • John Gay To a Lady ("When I some antique Jar behold")
  • Matthew Prior To a Lady ("Spare, gen'rous victor, spare the slave")

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