Home ⇒ 📌Edmund Spenser ⇒ Poem 97
Poem 97
THe wanton boy was shortly wel recured,
Of that his malady:
But he soone after fresh againe enured,
His former cruelty.
And since that time he wounded hath my selfe
With his sharpe dart of loue:
And now forgets the cruell carelesse elfe,
His mothers heast to proue.
So now I languish till he please,
My pining anguish to appease.
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