Representative Poetry Online
On this day: November 25th
Random Poem of the Day
1Follow your saint, follow with accents sweet;
2Haste you, sad notes, fall at her flying feet.
3There, wrapp'd in cloud of sorrow, pity move,
4And tell the ravisher of my soul I perish for her love:
5But if she scorns my never-ceasing pain,
6Then burst with sighing in her sight and ne'er return again.
7 All that I sung still to her praise did tend,
8Still she was first; still she my songs did end;
9Yet she my love and music both doth fly,
10The music that her echo is and beauty's sympathy.
11Then let my notes pursue her scornful flight:
12It shall suffice that they were breath'd and died for her delight.