 | The poems of William Habington |  |
40
Vpon CASTARA'S departure.
Vowes are vaine. No suppliant breathStayes the speed of swift-heel'd death.
Life with her is gone and I
Learne but a new way to dye.
See the flowers condole, and all
Wither in my funerall.
The bright Lilly, as if day
Parted with her, fades away.
Violets hang their heads, and lose
All their beauty. That the Rose
A sad part in sorrow beares,
Witnesse all those dewy teares,
Which as Pearle, or Dyamond like,
Swell upon her blushing cheeke.
All things mourne, but oh behold
How the withered Marigold
Closeth up now she is gone,
Iudging her the setting Sunne.
| The poems of William Habington | |