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Thomas Carew

Another Epitaph

THIS little vault, this narrow room,
Of Love and Beauty is the tomb;
The dawning beam, that 'gan to clear
Our clouded sky, lies darken'd here,
For ever set to us: by Death
Sent to enflame the World Beneath.
'Twas but a bud, yet did contain
More sweetness than shall spring again;
A budding Star, that might have grown
Into a Sun when it had blown.
This hopeful Beauty did create
New life in Love's declining state;
But now his empire ends, and we
From fire and wounding darts are free;
    His brand, his bow, let no man fear:
    The flames, the arrows, all lie here.

 
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About the poet
Thomas Carew
 
By the same poet
Song
Persuasions to Joy: a Song
To His Inconstant Mistress
The Unfading Beauty
Ingrateful Beauty threatened
Epitaph: On the Lady Mary Villiers
 
Related books
Thomas Carew at amazon.com


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