Old Poetry Poetry • Poets • Essays • Forums •

Prologue To A Saga

Maidens, gather not the yew,
  Leave the glossy myrtle sleeping;
Any lad was born untrue,
  Never a one is fit your weeping.

Pretty dears, your tumult cease;
  Love's a fardel, burthening double.
Clear your hearts, and have you peace-
  Gangway, girls: I'll show you trouble.

Leave a guest comment (subject to review)

    : Comment:

    Name: (required)
    Email: (required, hidden from spam)