Archive for May 8th, 2014

Thursday, 8 May 2014

Forsaken Woods, Trees with Sharp Storms Oppressed by Robert Sidney

Forsaken woods, trees with sharp storms oppressed,
Whose leaves once hid the sun, now strew the ground,
Once bred delight, now scorn, late used to sound
Of sweetest birds, now of hoarse crows the nest;
Gardens, which once in thousand colours dressed
Showed nature’s pride, now in dead sticks abound,
In whom proud summer’s treasure late was found
Now but the rags of winter’s torn coat rest;
Meadows whose sides late fair brooks kissed, now slime
Embraced holds;  fields whose youth green and brave
Promised long life, now frosts lay in the grave:
Say all, and I with them, ‘What doth not Time!’
But they, who knew Time, Time will find again;
I that fair times lost, on Time call in vain.


Date:  ?

By: Robert Sidney (1563-1626)