I made a posie, while the day ran by: "Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie My life within this band." But Time did beckon to the flowers, add they By noon most cunningly did steal away, And withered in my hand. My hand was next to them, and then my heart; I took, without more thinking, in good part Time's gentle admonition; Who did so sweetly death's sad taste convey, Making my minde to smell my fatall day, Yet sug'ring the suspicion. Farewell, dear flowers! sweetly your time ye spent; Fit, while ye lived, for smell or ornament, And after death for cures. I follow straight without complaints or grief; Since, if my scent be good, I care not if It be as short as yours. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VOLUNTEER by ELBRIDGE JEFFERSON CUTLER UMBRAE PUELLULARUM by WILLIAM ROSE BENET RECOGNITION by SUSIE MONTGOMERY BEST FIVE LITTLE WANDERINGS: 2. CHILDHOOD by BERTON BRALEY THE COMPLAINT OF NATURE by MICHAEL BRUCE INDIAN LULLABY by SARAH COMSTOCK SONG OF THE OLD YEAR by ELIZA COOK POSTHUMOUS TALES: TALE 7. THE SCHOOL-FELLOW by GEORGE CRABBE |