Tell me, bright boy, tell me, my golden lad,
Whither away so frolic ? why so glad ?
What all thy wealth in council ? all thy state ?
Are husks so dear ? troth 'tis a mighty rate.
On The Prodigal
Richard Crashaw
(1)
Poem topics: away, dear, wealth, bright, glad, golden, council, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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