• Flesch-Kincaid Level: 17
Poetry

To Althea, From Prison

I WHEN Love with unconfined wings    Hovers within my Gates;And my divine Althea brings    To whisper at the Grates;When I lye tangled in her haire    And fettered to her eye;The Gods that wanton in the Aire,    Know no such Liberty.  II When flowing Cups run swiftly round    With no all...
  • Flesch-Kincaid Level: 17