The winds that blow our billions away return burdened with themes of scorn and dispraise.
The winds that blow our billions away return burdened with themes of scorn and dispraise.
Come, I know thou lovest me; and at night, when you come into
your closet, you'll question this gentlewoman about me; and I
know, Kate, you will to her dispraise those parts in me that you
love with your heart.
Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt, Dispraise, or blame, nothing but well and fair, And what may quiet us in a death so noble.
That tongue that tells the story of thy days,
Making lascivious comments on thy sport,
Cannot dispraise, but in a kind of praise,
Naming thy name, blesses an ill report.
But whither am I strayed I need not raise Trophies to thee from other men's dispraise Nor is thy fame on lesser ruins built Nor needs thy juster title the foul guilt Of Eastern kings, who, to secure their reign, Must have their brothers, sons, and kindred slain.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories