Mvst wretched man, when com’d where woes abound,
Ere to the Sunne, vnclose his eyes to teares?
Whom when scarse borne, one straight to prison beares,
Loos’d from the bellie, in the Cradle bound.
Then rysing by the rod, he doth attend
The misteries of miserie at length,
And still his burthens growing with his strength,
Huge toyles and cares his youths perfection spends.
Last, helping Natures wants, O deare bought breath!
He must haue eyes of glasse, and feete of tree,
Till lyke a bow his bodie turnes to be,
Which age hath bended to be shot by death.
O, ô I see that from the mothers wombe,
There’s but a litle steppe vnto the tombe.
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The End
And that’s the End of the Poem
© Poetry Monster, 2021.
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Some external links: The Bat’s Poetry Cave. — Fledermaus’s poetry site. Talking Writing Monster. — the irreverent and irrelevant chatter on subjects both serious and not quite. A free for all board. You can scribble anything on it without registration (but it doesn’t let spammers in). You can even post your poems. Qwant.com. — a search engine from France. It’s an alternative because there are a few alternatives, like Bing, Duckduckgo, and Ecosia. And there is Yandex, the ultimate language-oriented search engine for the Russophone world. Commercial Links: Russian Commerce – the foreign trade assistance agency Other links: Poems and poetry in Russian (if you are reading this in English, as you obviously are, then you’d have to switch the language, the language switch is on the menu. More on languages)
