How sweet-dumbshown betises better become our lover-fools…

How sweet-dumbshown betises better become our lover-fools,

I raciocinate; how like calves byred in ordure;

And in pleasing waste, that they pleasingly perdure,

Canary forth such spellfal diapasons, as mewls

Neonate for kind affectments of its mater,

To finagle soft pity of the vamp, as love;

Nor discombobulated in the task, their perfect best strove,

Seek not through dying to win, wouldst toadyish living not her:

Either way, their pains sweet to them as dewberries

To peach blossom moths, blizzard like apricots them canopies!

******************************************

Such o’erdaring discommodities doth Love foist

‘Pon his liegemen, nor to these countervail,

Deals something of ease forth these sorries to avail;

But be weeping and sighing ‘pon the scales fair poised!

Weeping making the deep, sighing a fierce windstorm,

Whereon fools fain voyage, and dowse for mythy isles far from home:

To speed they know scarce where, weep they he flood deeper,

Sigh storms fiercer, take thus more wind jib sails, to thrust them further:

Till oft through porky haar yon golden realm be seen,

Which compass’d render men elvish things, gossamer-light and thin!

*****************************************

Companying such sea-lost jacks sometime, keel’d with freight,

Grew light now I, putting last to shore, that knew some weight!




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By Sydney Chesterfield on June 12, 2016 · Posted in Braindrops On Yellow Leaves, Literary, Poetry, Trends

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