Album: Monocyte
Could such inordinate and low desires,
Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts,
Such barren pleasures, rude society
As thou art matched withal, and grafted to.
I know not whether God will have it so For some displeasing service I have done,
That, in his secret doom, out of my blood
He’ll breed revengement and a scourge for me.
Accompany the greatness of thy blood,
And hold their level with thy princely heart?
But thou dost in thy passages of life
Make me believe that thou art only marked
For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven
To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else.
Could such inordinate and low desires,
Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts,
Such barren pleasures, rude society
As thou art matched withal, and grafted to.
Accompany the greatness of thy blood,
And hold their level with thy princely heart?