William Browne


SO shuts the marigold her leaves
    At the departure of the sun;
So from the honeysuckle sheaves
    The bee goes when the day is done;
So sits the turtle when she is but one,
And so all woe, as I since she is gone.

To some few birds kind Nature hath
    Made all the summer as one day:
Which once enjoy'd, cold winter's wrath
    As night they sleeping pass away.
Those happy creatures are, that know not yet
The pain to be deprived or to forget.

I oft have heard men say there be
    Some that with confidence profess
The helpful Art of Memory:
    But could they teach Forgetfulness,
I'd learn; and try what further art could do
To make me love her and forget her too.

Sponsored link
To advertise here, please contact us.
About the poet
William Browne
By the same poet
The Rose
A Welcome
The Sirens' Song
Epitaph: In Obitum M.S. Xº Maij, 1614
Epitaph: On the Countess Dowager of Pembroke
Related books
William Browne at amazon.com

Home  .  Poets  .  Poems  .  Books  .  Site preferences  .  Contact

English  .  Français

© 2003-2006 Waverley Internet Design. All rights reserved.