Thursday, November 12, 2015

poetry form, PICTURE POEM

a sample from George Herbert (1593---1633)


Lord, who created man in wealth and store,
Though foolishly he lost the same,
Decaying more and more
Till he become
most pooer
with thee
O let me rise
As larks, harmonlously,
And sing this day thy victories,
Then shall the fall further the flight in me



My tender age in snow did beginne,
and still with sickness and shame
Thou didst so punish sinne
that I became
Most thinne
With thee
Let me combine
And feel the day thy victorie;
For if I imp' my wing on thine,
Affliction shall advance the fight in me