A Lament

William Henry Drummond

My thoughts hold mortal strife;
I do detest my life,
And with lamenting cries
Peace to my soul to bring
Oft call that prince which here doth monarchize:
But he, grim grinning King,
Who caitiffs scorns, and doth the blest surprise,
Late having decked with beauty’s rose his tomb,
Disdains to crop a weed, and will not come.

Next 10 Poems

• William Henry Drummond : Change Should Breed Change
• William Henry Drummond : Doth Then The World Go Thus?
• William Henry Drummond : Her Passing
• William Henry Drummond : Inexorable
• William Henry Drummond : Invocation
• William Henry Drummond : Madrigal
• William Henry Drummond : Saint John Baptist
• William Henry Drummond : Spring Bereaved I
• William Henry Drummond : Spring Bereaved Ii
• William Henry Drummond : Spring Bereaved Iii

Previous 10 Poems

• Michael Drayton : To The Virginian Voyage
• Michael Drayton : To The Reader Of These Sonnets
• Michael Drayton : To His Coy Love
• Michael Drayton : The Parting
• Michael Drayton : The Battle Of Agincourt
• Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxxviii: Sitting Alone, Love
• Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxxvii: Dear, Why Should You
• Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxxvi: Thou Purblind Boy
• Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxxv: Some, Misbelieving
• Michael Drayton : Sonnet Xxxix: Some, When In Rhyme