Kim Unto whose use the pregnant suns are poised, With idiot moons and stars retracting stars? Creep thou between -- thy coming's all unnoised. Heaven hath her high, as Earth her baser, wars. Heir to these tumults, this affright, that fray (By Adam's, fathers', own, sin bound alway); Peer up, draw out thy horoscope and say Which planet mends thy threadbare fate, or mars. |
English Poetry - http://www.eng-poetry.ru/english/index.php. E-mail eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |