Sonett-Forum

OPHELIA TO HAMLET, SEEING HIM DISTRAUGHT

AH ! be not cruel, love ! be tender still !
Ah ! see now, you have kissed the roses dead,
And I have lilies for my lips instead ;
My blood runs back as from some nameless ill
To see thee strained to take an eager fill
And harvest of fierce kisses ; face and head
Thy hands and eyes gloat over ; all my skill
To match such passionate degrees hath fled
Like a scared bird in darkness ; loose thy hold
Upon my bruised wrists, nay, do not so
Glare love into my eyes that droop below
Thy violent insistence ! I am cold
When in thy voice I hear the frenzy grow
That of thy will was never yet controlled !