Since to obtain thee nothing me will stead,
I have a med'cine that shall cure my love.
The powder of her heart dried, when she's dead,
That gold nor honour ne'er had power to move;
Mixed with her tears that ne'er her true love crost,
Nor at fifteen ne'er longed to be a bride;
Boiled with her sighs, in giving up the ghost,
That for her late deceasë"d husband died;
Into the same then let a woman breathe,
That being chid did never word reply;
With one thrice married's prayers, that did bequeath
A legacy to stale virginity.
If this receipt have not the power to win me,
Little I'll say, but think the devil's in me!
Sonnets: Idea Xv His Remedy For Love
Michael Drayton
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Poem topics: heart, husband, never, woman, bride, true, ghost, gold, devil, legacy, powder, breathe, power, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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