The Request

I’AVE often wish’d to love; what shall I do?

Me still the cruel boy does spare;

And I a double task must bear,

First to woo him, and then a mistress too.

Come at last and strike, for shame,

If thou art any thing besides a name;

I’ll think thee else no God to be,

But poets rather Gods, who first created thee.

I ask not one in whom all beauties grow;

Let me but love, whate’er she be,

She cannot seem deform’d to me;

And I would have her seem to others so.

Desire takes wings and straight does fly,

It stays not dully to inquire the Why.

That happy thing, a lover, grown,

I shall not see with others’ eyes, scarce with mine own.

If she be coy, and scorn my noble fire;

If her chill heart I cannot move;

Why I’ll enjoy the very love,

And make a mistress of my own desire.

Flames their most vigorous heat do hold,

And purest light, if compass’d round with cold:

So, when sharp winter means most harm,

The springing plants are by the snow itself kept warm.

But do not touch my heart, and so be gone;

Strike deep thy burning arrows in!

Lukewarmness I account a sin,

As great in love as in religion.

Come arm’d with flames; for I would prove

All the extremities of mighty Love.

Th’ excess of heat is but a fable;

We know the torrid zone is now found habitable.

Among the woods and forests thou art found,

There boars and lions thou dost tame;

Is not my heart a nobler game?

Let Venus, men; and beasts, Diana, wound!

Thou dost the birds thy subjects make;

Thy nimble feathers do their wings o’ertake:

Thou all the spring their songs dost hear;

Make me love too, I’ll sing to’ thee all the year!

What service can mute fishes do to thee?

Yet against them thy dart prevails,

Piercing the armour of their scales;

And still thy sea-born mother lives i’th’ sea.

Dost thou deny only to me

The no-great privilege of captivity?

I beg or challenge here thy bow;

Either thy pity to me, or else thine anger, show.

Come! or I ‘ll teach the world to scorn that bow:

I’ll teach them thousand wholesome arts

Both to resist and cure thy darts,

More than thy skilful Ovid e’er did know.

Musick of sighs thou shalt not hear,

Nor drink one wretched lover’s tasteful tear:

Nay, unless soon thou woundest me,

My verses shall not only wound, but murder, thee.

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A few random poems:

External links

Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus

Talking Writing Monster’s Page –

Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh

Poems in English 

• Graydigger’s Home by William Stafford by William Stafford
• For My Young Friends Who Are Afraid by William Stafford by William Stafford
• Atavism by William Stafford by William Stafford
• Ask Me by William Stafford by William Stafford
• Allegiances by William Stafford by William Stafford
• Across Kansas by William Stafford by William Stafford
• A Ritual To Read To Each Other by William Stafford by William Stafford
• Sonnet 127: In the old age black was not counted fair by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 126: O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 125: Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 124: If my dear love were but the child of state by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 123: No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 122: Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 121: Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 120: That you were once unkind befriends me now by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 11: As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 119: What potions have I drunk of Siren tears by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 118: Like as to make our appetite more keen by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 117: Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 116: Let me not to the marriage of true minds by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

More external links (open in a new tab):

Russian Commerce Agency

Dealing Monster

Doska or the Board – write anything

Search engines:

Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)

Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.

Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees

Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.

Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.

 

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