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William Dunbar

To a Lady

SWEET rois of vertew and of gentilness,
Delytsum lily of everie lustynes,
        Richest in bontie and in bewtie clear,
        And everie vertew that is wenit dear,
Except onlie that ye are mercyless

Into your garth this day I did persew;
There saw I flowris that fresche were of hew;
        Baith quhyte and reid most lusty were to seyne,
        And halesome herbis upon stalkis greene;
Yet leaf nor flowr find could I nane of rew.

I doubt that Merche, with his cauld blastis keyne,
Has slain this gentil herb, that I of mene;
        Quhois piteous death dois to my heart sic paine
        That I would make to plant his root againe,—
So confortand his levis unto me bene.

 
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About the poet
William Dunbar
 
By the same poet
In Honour of the City of London
On the Nativity of Christ
Lament for the Makers
 
Related books
William Dunbar at amazon.com


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