Poem of thy Heart
Whether Tis strong or waifish to let thy heart grow cold from whence wronged,
Or purchase each and sinking fait, from tears thou doth abscond.
Or t'was of more leisure to let sinews harden of thy heart,
To let thy feeling, and capricious matters, in every feature, depart.
Doth by this, confound the soul, t'was thy heart turns wretches of us all,
Amorphously charged is mind, by feelings tis enthralled.
T'was superior to be loved than feared,
To value thy crown's enchantment, and in heart, kindness tis mere.
When'st Impenetrable thyself we make,
questioned is the strength to condone the heart,
Or embrace it's variegated qualities, it's beating feeling part.