Poetry

(after George Wither)

Will I over her be in some despair
as she is beautiful, in her looks fair,
like a blossom on a early spring day,
a fruit tree where all of the small birds play;
if she do not love me, or regard me,
what will I care, even if she is lovely?

How can she somehow come to my own mind
even if she is graceful, very kind,
even if she is tranquil by nature
and slenderness is of her a feature;
if she do not love me, or regard me,
what will I care, even if she is lovely?

If she cares for me true, her I will woo,
some pleasant things, all in my power do,
nothing to somehow cause her any grieve
while in her sincerity I will believe;
if she do not love me, or regard me,
what will I care, even if she is lovely?

[Reference: “The manly heart” by George Wither.]