'Tis vayne to add a ring or gemme,
Your eare itselfe outpasseth them.
When idle words are passing here,
I warne and pull you by the eare.
This silken chayne stands wayting here
For golden tongues to tye on there.
Here silken twynes, there locks you see--
Now tell me which the softer bee?
An Eare-stringe
William Strode
(1)
Poem topics: golden, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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