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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345242" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Complaint Of A Lover</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Seest thou younder craggy Rock, <br> Whose Head o'er-looks the swelling Main, <br>Where never Shepherd fed his Flock, <br> Or careful Peasant sow'd his Grain. <br>No wholesome Herb grows on the same, <br> Or Bird of Day will on it rest;<br>'Tis Barren as the Hopeless Flame, <br> That scortches my tormented Breast. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Deep underneath a Cave does lie, <br> Th' entrance hid with dismal Yew, <br>Where Phebus never shew'd his Eye, <br> Or cheerful Day yet pierced through. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">In that dark Melancholy Cell, <br> (Retreate and Sollace to my Woe)<br>Love, sad Dispair, and I, do dwell, <br> The Springs from whence my Griefs do flow. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Treacherous Love that did appear, <br> (When he at first approach't my Heart)<br>Drest in a Garb far from severe, <br> Or threatning ought of future smart. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So Innocent those Charms then seem'd, <br> When Rosalinda first I spy'd, <br>Ah! Who would them have deadly deem'd? <br> But Flowers do often Serpents hide. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beneath those sweets conceal'd lay, <br> To Love the cruel Foe, Disdain, <br>With which (alas) she does repay<br> My Constant and Deserving Pain. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">When I in Tears have spent the Night, <br> With Sighs I usher in the Sun, <br>Who never saw a sadder sight, <br> In all the Courses he has run. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sleep, which to others Ease does prove,<br> Comes unto me, alas, in vain: <br>For in my Dreams I am in Love, <br> And in them too she does Disdain. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Some times t'Amuse my Sorrow, I <br> Unto the hollow Rocks repair, <br>And loudly to the Eccho cry, <br> Ah! gentle Nimph come ease my Care. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou who, times past, a Lover wer't, <br> Ah! pity me, who now am so, <br>And by a sense of thine own smart, <br> Alleviate my Mighty Woe. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Come Flatter then, or Chide my Grief; <br> Catch my last Words, and call me Fool;<br>Or say, she Loves, for my Relief; <br> My Passion either sooth, or School.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anne+Killigrew">Anne Killigrew</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345242" data-title="The Complaint Of A Lover de Anne Killigrew" data-description="Seest thou younder craggy Rock, 
 Whose Head o'er-looks the swelling Main, 
Where never Shepherd fed his Flock, 
 Or careful Peasant sow'd his Grain. 
No wholesome Herb grows on the same, 
 Or Bird of Day will on it rest;
'Tis Barren as the Hopele..."></div>
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