Poesy

Mother, I cannot mind my Wheel

MOTHER, I cannot mind my wheel;My fingers ache, my lips are dry:O, if you felt the pain I feel!But O, who ever felt as I?

No longer could I doubt him true--All other men may use deceit;He always said my eyes were blue,And often swore my lips were sweet.

Sign in to like, rate and collect poems, and keep track of what you've read.