What needeth these threnning words and wasted wind?
All this cannot make me restore my prey.
To rob your good, iwis, is not my mind,
Nor causeless your fair hand did I display.
Let love be judge or else whom next we meet
That may both hear what you and I can say:
She took from me an heart, and I a glove from her.
Let us see now if th'one be worth th'other.
More verses by David McKee Wright
- Bavarian Gentias
- I Abide And Abide And Better Abide
- Since So Ye Please To Hear Me Plain
- An Old Colonist's Reverie
- And Wilt Thou Leave Me Thus?