Mary Wroth

(1587-1651 / England)

Poems of Mary Wroth

1. [Bee you all pleas'd, your pleasures grieve not me] 9/18/2010
2. [How Glowworme-like the Sun doth now appeare,] 9/18/2010
3. [My Muse now happy lay thy selfe to rest,] 9/18/2010
4. [No time, no roome, no thought, or writing can give rest] 9/18/2010
5. [O That no day would ever more appear] 9/18/2010
6. [The weary Traveller, who tyred, sought] 9/18/2010
7. 12 9/18/2010
8. 13 9/18/2010
9. 14 (Song 2) 9/18/2010
10. 15 9/18/2010
11. 16 9/18/2010
12. 17 9/18/2010
13. 18 9/18/2010
14. 19 9/18/2010
15. 2 9/18/2010
16. 20 9/18/2010
17. 21 (Song 3) 9/18/2010
18. 22 9/18/2010
19. 23 9/18/2010
20. 24 9/18/2010

14 (Song 2)

All Night I weepe, all Day I cry, Ay me,
I still doe wish, though yet deny, ay me;
I sigh, I mourne, I say that still,
I only am the store for ill, ay me.

In coldest hopes I freeze, yet burne, ay me,
From flames I strive to fly, yet turne, ay me:
From griefe I hast, but sorrowes hye,
And on my heart all woes do lye, ay me.

[Hata Bildir]