Monologue I

O! ye porous, pallor’d soul!
‘T is thee to whom I do wail
In grief, an’ thither hath I
Sent anon such myriad of words.
I beeth ’bout nigh stricken
As I hath first attested
Ye to be with mine prime verb.
I prithee, bright maiden, do read onward
This vote of most courteous
Confidence and compassion,
Shown outside thine family,
I hereby offer freely.

Let not thine fear repress thee,
Nor fain thee to entertain
The singular thought that of
All men, hereafter said, pursue any
Exploit of fruitless courtship.
Do not seek renovation
Where renovation is naught,
But, rather, free thyself of future strife.
Dismiss all ‘membrance of past
Affection clearly given,
And punish that wantonness
With strong vigor and sternest energy.
Thou hast now a greater
Chance to wean from libertines,
And find thyself heartfelt men
With whom thou shalt be joyous.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: