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<dc:contributor.editor xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xml:lang="pl">Lech, Justyna</dc:contributor.editor>
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<dc:source xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xml:lang="pl">Jan Kochanowski, Laments, University of California Press, Berkeley 1920</dc:source>
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</rdf:RDF><liryka_l><autor_utworu>Jan Kochanowski</autor_utworu>




<dzielo_nadrzedne>Laments</dzielo_nadrzedne>




<nazwa_utworu>Lament III</nazwa_utworu>




<strofa>So, thou hast scorned me, my delight and heir;/
Thy father's halls, then, were not broad and fair/
Enough for thee to dwell here longer, sweet./
True, there was nothing, nothing in them meet/
For thy swift-budding reason, that foretold/
Virtues the future years would yet unfold./
Thy words, thy archness, every turn and bow ---/
How sick at heart without them am I now!/
Nay, little comfort, never more shall I/
Behold thee and thy darling drollery./
What may I do but only follow on/
Along the path where earlier thou hast gone./
And at its end do thou, with all thy charms,/
Cast round thy father's neck thy tender arms.</strofa>


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