‘Of her there bred,
A thousand yong ones, which she dayly fed'
‘Dunno' quoth She; dim broken sluggard light
Once glistening rays shone bright along her raiments;
Black crow in ashy feathers smokes the shady nights;
So long days on end out with the Huntsmen, I spent
And came upon too many scenes of vile rage & fire;
To take my life a thousand-times to fight those foul desires.
By now I know those furtive eyes, her thoughts I comprehend
And this is not a place to be for any worthy men.
If God, it be that worthy, her light I'll seek again.
Wednesday, March 10, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: woman