Classic Poetry


Poem 94

by Edmund Spenser


NAthlesse the cruell boy not so content,
would needs the fly pursue:
And in his hand with heedlesse hardiment,
him caught for to subdue.
But when on it he hasty hand did lay,
the Bee him stung therefore:
Now out alasse (he cryde) and welaway,
I wounded am full sore:
The fly that I so much did scorne,
hath hurt me with his little horne.





Unsatisfied? Search for more:


Other Cool Sites:

Hot Arts & Stage News

Lyrics Catalogue

Sound Tracks Guide

Guide to Serials and Shows

English Subtitles For DivX Movies

Hundreds of Cooking Recipes

Over 5000 Cocktails Recipes

Cool Online Encyclopedia

Cellulars Descriptions and Reviews

Algorithms Dictionary

Funny Jokes and Anecdotes.

Usenet Newsgroups Reader