by Mary Wroth
What pleasure can a banish'd creature have
In all the pastimes that invented are
By wit or learning? Absence making warre
Against all peace that may a biding crave.
Can wee delight but in a welcome grave,
Where we may bury paines? and so be fare
From loathed company, who alwaies jarre
Upon the string of mirth that pastime gave.
The knowing part of joye is deem'd the heart,
If that be gone what joy can joy impart
When senceless is the feeler of our mirth?
Noe, I am banish'd, and no good shall finde,
But all my fortunes must with mischiefe binde;
Who but for miserie did gaine a birth.
Last updated January 14, 2019