XI.

Bewailing in my chamber, thus alone,

Despaired of all joy and remedy,

For-tired of my thought, and woe begone;

And to the window 'gan I walk in hye,[1]

To see the world and folk that went forby;

As for the time (though I of mirthis food

Might have no more) to look it did me good.

Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets, Volume 1 · 第 54 / 326 题