Fool that I’d been! to shun my mistress’ qualities…

Fool that I’d been! to shun my mistress’ qualities,

A proud eye marks no good in anything!

Yet in this fool’ry had I lain from fell calamities,

For nothing as my lady’s spell was found so menacing!

Be what be may, I side with underlings,

And join in arms to curb despotic kings;

Save that I prove most imposting turnjoy in this:

That I turn tail from Mutiny that my lady’s clout envies.

O true, slay’st my lady men with golded flashes of her glance,

And ween they give gramercy! for gloss of their death, sans grievance!


I’ll palpate base fathoms of the flood with the little finger,

Measure out thousand leagues with but one stride o’er,

Blow out fires of swarth-faced heaven with one breathed contempt;

And make toys of impossibilities, where she urge the tempt!

She the high Cleopatra of my mind be,

Crown of all matters subordinate and Caesarly;

Thus have I my all and all of purpose tied to her;

Sever’d and lost, can bide the sulphurous earth no more!

‘Tis not the dullness of sleep, but fever of dreams,

That set us ‘wake, as knacker’d Night wake ‘neath moonbeams!


E’en de’il-may-care fools to seek some proof of life ‘gin;

At their tail-end snaps something, and fools straight grow sick of dying!


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By Sydney Chesterfield on June 6, 2016 · Posted in Braindrops On Yellow Leaves, Literary, Poetry, Trends

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