Woe, woe to them, who, by a ball of strife,
Do, and have parted here a man and wife:
CHARLES the best husband, while MARIA strives
To be, and is, the very best of wives,
Like streams, you are divorc’d; but ’twill come when
These eyes of mine shall see you mix again.
Thus speaks the oak here; C. and M. shall meet,
Treading on amber, with their silver-feet,
Nor will’t be long ere this accomplish’d be:
The words found true, C. M., remember me.
Any corrections or public domain poems I should have here? Email me at poems (at) this domain.