 | Complete works (1925-27) |  |
VI
[O thou, fair honour of all gentle vowes]
O thou, fair honour of all gentle vowes,Dear queen to whom all love brings sacrifice,
Why dost thou cloude the glory of those eies,
And furrow the clear ivory of thy brows?
Dost thou not see, or art thou slow to feel,
How much more worthy is a perfect name
Than beauty touch'd with show of cankering shame?
How Time's unmerciful hand doth gently steal
The glory of thy memories away,
Leaving thy deeds bare to the naked day?
Ere it be late, let thy true beautie veil
The borrow'd falsehood of those envious tongues;
Ere thy rich eie be dim, thy full cheeke pale,
Redeem thy beauty from enduring wrongs.
| Complete works (1925-27) | |