The Love God is a feckless thing
It’s arrows it doth’ wildly fling
But each hath curs'ed poison sting
For though the heart when struck may sing
And dreamily to hope may cling
Eftsoons that hope will swiftly wing
And lovelorn care the hands shall wring
T’were better that th’ Amor’ King
Would snap the bow and break the string.
2 comments:
Your blog keeps getting better and better! Your older articles are not as good as newer ones you have a lot more creativity and originality now. Keep it up!
And according to this article, I totally agree with your opinion, but only this time! :)
Greets!
It is my first time here. I just wanted to say hi!
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