This isle and house are mine, and I have vow'd
Thee to be lady of the solitude.
This isle and house are mine, and I have vow'd
Thee to be lady of the solitude.
He caught the flying smile, and blusht, and vow'd
Nor time nor other power, whereto the might
Of love hath yielded and may yield again,
Should alter his.
Thy noble shape is but a form of wax
Digressing from the valour of a man;
Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury,
Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish;
Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
Misshapen in the conduct of them both,
Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask,
is get afire by thine own ignorance,
And thou dismemb'red with thine own defence.
'Tis not the many oaths that make the truth But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories