To Lysander

Wherefore art thou dearest Lysander?

Mine eyes drink of thine fair form

but pray do tell dear Lysander

How thou art far- how mine heart tore

By Hermia art thou, bittersweet love?

Is thine one heart for Hermia set apart?

Wilt not thine heart seek mine chaste affection?

Hath thou found comfort in Hermia’s beauteous fashion?

Oh how deaf thou art Lysander!

And how greatly in seeing doth thou falter

Doth not mine heart cry loud enough Lysander?

For thine sight mine tears cannot fall any faster

In yerterdays and morrows I for so long cry

But thou, Lysander, hath not even a sigh

Oh I dont blame thee and thine jurisdiction

For thine heart and mine hath no perfection

And thine heart hath blindeth thee

But woe to me, Oh Lysander dear

For thine love is not for me

Go run to thine love- thine Hermia

For whence doth thine happiness spring but in Hermia?

Go sing of thine love and all of me forget

For rain on your sunshine mine sorrows I shalt not let

But do not look at me then, fair Lysander

For mine sorrows art yet to come thither

Mine tears art for mine eyes only to behold

So set thine sight in thine love’s threshold

Oh this pain Lysander!

Canst kill its host but is there any better

Than mine love for thee to die?

Oh Lysander be away from me and out of sight

For mine love for thee I dearly pray to die…

may 11, 2008