To a Swallow, Building neare the Statue of Medea
Fond Progne, chattering wretch,
That is Medea; there
Wilt thou thy younglings hatch?
Will she keep thine, her own who could not spare?
Learne from her frantick face
To seek some fitter place.
What other may'st thou hope for, what desire,
Save Stygian spels, wounds, poyson, iron, fire?
That is Medea; there
Wilt thou thy younglings hatch?
Will she keep thine, her own who could not spare?
Learne from her frantick face
To seek some fitter place.
What other may'st thou hope for, what desire,
Save Stygian spels, wounds, poyson, iron, fire?
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.