Poem Hunter
To A Lady
WD (1460 - 1522 / Scotland)

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.

User Rating: 3,1 / 5 ( 16 votes ) 9

Comments (9)

Gentleness! ! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
He writes of his desire and covets what the other has and is watching everyday.. iip.. James
A poem so nicely penned, gives a fun of haunting. Thanks poet for sharing it. Congrats.
Gives a feeling like being Haunted... nicely written. Thanks for the sharing of the lovely poem.
It is a beauriful poem having haunting expression. Thanks for sharing and congratulations for being selected as the poem of the day.
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