The Whole Works of William Browne of Tavistock ... Now first collected and edited, with a memoir of the poet, and notes, by W. Carew Hazlitt, of the Inner Temple |
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 | The Whole Works of William Browne |  |
[Coelia is gone, & now sit I]
Coelia is gone, & now sit IAs Philomela, (on a thorne,
Turn'd out of natures liverye)
Mirthles, alone, & all forlorne;
Onelye she sings not, while my sorrowes can
Afford such notes as fit a dying swan.
So shuts the Marygold her leaues
At the departure of ye sunne;
Soe from honeysuckle sheaues
The Bee goes, when ye day is done.
Soe sits the Turtle, when she is but one;
So is all woe; as I, now she is gone.
To some few Birds, kind Nature hath
Made all the summer as one daye,
Which once enioyde, cold winters wrath,
As night, they sleeping passe away:
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The paines to be deprivde, or to forgett.
I oft haue heard men saye there be
Some, that with confidence professe
The helpefull art of memorie;
But could they teach Forgetfulnes,
I'd learne and trye what further art could doe,
To make me loue her, & forget her to.
Sad Melancholy that perswades
Men from themselues, to think they be
Headles or other bodyes shades,
Hath long & bootles dwelt with me;
For could I thinke she some Idea were,
I still might loue, forget, & haue her heere;
But such she is not: nor would I,
For twice as many torments more,
As her bereaued company
Hath brought to those I felt before;
For then noe future time might hap to know,
That she deseru'd, or I did loue her soe.
Ye howres then but as minutes be,
(Though soe I shall be sooner old,)
Till I those louely graces see,
Which but in her can none behold.
Then be an age that wee may neuer trye
More griefe in parting, but grow old & dye.
| The Whole Works of William Browne | |