Bronislau Mantooth

Sonnet I

My chest I cannot call my own again;
I have no tools to change the lock from old.
For from my trip I cannot make amends,
Though for the other half it was foretold.
The horse that pulled my carriage steadily
Now falls in presence of the passengers.
And how the courses changed so readily,
Though through tempest and temptress we rehearsed.
A foul thing to be so far away

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