 | The Shepherd's Garden |  |
76
A COMPLAINT OF THE FALSITY OF TIME.
Truth, where dost thou hold thy throne:
In what region now unknown:
Or hast thou for ever flown,
That no more we may behold thee?
Faith is falsed and trust is gone:
Out, alas! Love make thy moan
For the lies feigned oaths have told thee.
In what region now unknown:
Or hast thou for ever flown,
That no more we may behold thee?
Faith is falsed and trust is gone:
Out, alas! Love make thy moan
For the lies feigned oaths have told thee.
Fie, bold roses blushing, fie!
For he on your bed did lie
Your languished graces now may die,
Pining pains shall now forego ye:
Lilies, roses, every one,
Pinks and pansies, all are gone;
Love comes back no more to woo ye.
For he on your bed did lie
Your languished graces now may die,
Pining pains shall now forego ye:
Lilies, roses, every one,
Pinks and pansies, all are gone;
Love comes back no more to woo ye.
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