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Thy flower of youth is with a north wind blasted | Thy flower of youth is with a north wind blasted | ||
thy feast of | thy feast of Ioye, is an Idea found | ||
Thy corne is shed, thy untimely harvest wasted | Thy corne is shed, thy untimely harvest wasted | ||
thy good in ill, thy hope in hurt as wasted | thy good in ill, thy hope in hurt as wasted | ||
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thy fruite is rotten & thy leaves are gone | thy fruite is rotten & thy leaves are gone | ||
Thy selfe wert young in yeares in tyme growne | Thy selfe wert young in yeares in tyme growne | ||
the world accoumpts thee not worth thinking on old | the world accoumpts thee not worth thinking on | old | ||
Thy thred's not cutt nor spun, but broken | Thy thred's not cutt nor spun, but broken | ||
Soe let thy heart, though yet it be but open | Soe let thy heart, though yet it be but open | ||
Revision as of 19:05, 16 July 2017
An Answere to M[r] Tichborne who was executed wth Babington
Thy flower of youth is with a north wind blasted thy feast of Ioye, is an Idea found Thy corne is shed, thy untimely harvest wasted thy good in ill, thy hope in hurt as wasted Darke was thy daye & shadow was thy sun And by such lights, thy life untymely spun
Thy tale was nought thy oratory told thy fruite is rotten & thy leaves are gone Thy selfe wert young in yeares in tyme growne the world accoumpts thee not worth thinking on | old Thy thred's not cutt nor spun, but broken Soe let thy heart, though yet it be but open
Thou soughts thy death and foundst it in desert thou lookest for life, yet leudly foet [sic?: "felt" in printed edition] it fade Thou trodst on Earth, & now in Earth thou art and men may wish that yu hadst nere bine borne Thy glorye and thy glase are tymeless ruine wch (O unhappye man) by thy selfe was donne Finis