A La Bourbon. Done Moy Plus De Pitie Ou Plus De Creaulte, Car Sans Ci Ie Ne Puis Pas Viure, Ne Morir
Richard Lovelace 1618 – 1657
I.
Divine Destroyer, pitty me no more,
Or else more pitty me;
Give me more love, ah, quickly give me more,
Or else more cruelty!
For left thus as I am,
My heart is ice and flame;
And languishing thus, I
Can neither live nor dye!
II.
Your glories are eclipst, and hidden in the grave
Of this indifferency;
And, Caelia, you can neither altars have,
Nor I, a Diety:
They are aspects divine,
That still or smile, or shine,
Or, like th' offended sky,
Frowne death immediately.
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 14, 2023
- 27 sec read
- 75 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | ABCBCXXAA AXXXXDDAC |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic trimeter |
Characters | 537 |
Words | 90 |
Stanzas | 2 |
Stanza Lengths | 9, 9 |
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"A La Bourbon. Done Moy Plus De Pitie Ou Plus De Creaulte, Car Sans Ci Ie Ne Puis Pas Viure, Ne Morir" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Mar. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/30117/a-la-bourbon.-done-moy-plus-de-pitie-ou-plus-de-creaulte,-car-sans-ci-ie-ne-puis-pas-viure,-ne-morir>.
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