My thoughts hold mortal strife; <br />I do detest my life, <br />And with lamenting cries <br />Peace to my soul to bring <br />Oft call that prince which here doth monarchize: <br />But he, grim grinning King, <br />Who caitiffs scorns, and doth the blest surprise, <br />Late having decked with beauty's rose his tomb, <br />Disdains to crop a weed, and will not come.<br /><br />William Henry Drummond<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-lament-4/
