Thou warlike nation whom Achaius tyed
In league, and made our house of Borbones guard.
Since thou my Love and mee dost now divide,
Thou art become my foe, whose heart so hard
T’enioy my heart my owne life hast not spar’d.
My dayes want light, my nights sleep; longer are
The houres then dayes, the yeere then age by farre;
Either confesse our league is broken here,
Or Scotland quickly send me backe my deere.
(Francis Kynaston)
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Based on Topics: Light Poems, Sleep PoemsBased on Keywords: backe, houres, deere, confesse, yeere, enioy, tyed