THE FARCE OF THE FAIR

Sober, bewildered, docile  swain…

A fair maiden lov’d, but lov’d in vain…

Warmth of sea breeze, cooled by sycamore’s shades…

Mind turned to pressing thoughts, and all time seems to halt…

 

Will you die unpitied, and unheard?

For all thy fair affection, is this unkind callous gesture your reward?!!…

 

Now even nature stirs in response to your gloom…

The sun disappears, with all its specter of radiant light…

The clouds follow suit,

               The bright skies dissolve into a shady hue…

The rustling leaves with his thoughts conspire,

They unsettled by wind, and he with fierce desire

But how much more is it to sustain,

Such affection, certain to end in disdain?

 

Trust not your heart to that enchanting face;

Beauty’s a charm; but soon, the charm will pass…

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