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Elegy Xi: The Bracelet

Rating: 2.7
Upon the Loss of His Mistress’s Chain, for Which He Made Satisfaction

NOT that in colour it was like thy hair,
For armlets of that thou mayst let me wear;
Nor that thy hand it oft embraced and kiss'd,
For so it had that good, which oft I miss'd;
Nor for that silly old morality,
That, as these links were knit, our love should be,
Mourn I that I thy sevenfold chain have lost;
Nor for the luck sake; but the bitter cost.
O, shall twelve righteous angels, which as yet
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Friday, April 9, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: death
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6/13/2021 4:26:05 AM # 1.0.0.621