Imitation of the Olden Poets Time is a taper waning fast! Use it, man, well whilst it doth last: Lest burning downwards it consume away, Before thou hast commenced the labour of the day. Time is a pardon of a goodly soil! Plenty shall crown thine honest toil: But if uncultivated, rankest weeds Shall choke the efforts of the rising seeds. Time is a leasehold of uncertain date! Granted to thee by everlasting fate. Neglect not thou, ere thy short term expire, To save thy soul from ever-burning fire. |
English Poetry - http://eng-poetry.ru/english/index.php. E-mail eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |