The Poetical Works of William Drummond of Hawthornden With "A Cypresse Grove": Edited by L. E. Kastner |
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Son. [viii]
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 | The Poetical Works of William Drummond of Hawthornden |  |
Son. [viii]
[My Lute, bee as thou wast when thou didst grow]
My Lute, bee as thou wast when thou didst growWith thy greene Mother in some shadie Groue,
When immelodious Windes but made thee moue,
And Birds on thee their Ramage did bestow.
Sith that deare Voyce which did thy Sounds approue,
Which vs'd in such harmonious Straines to flow,
Is reft from Earth to tune those Spheares aboue,
What art thou but a Harbenger of Woe?
Thy pleasing Notes, be pleasing Notes no more,
But orphane Wailings to the fainting Eare,
Each Stoppe a Sigh, each Sound drawes foorth a Teare,
Bee therefore silent as in Woods before,
Or if that any Hand to touch thee daigne,
Like widow'd Turtle, still her Losse complaine.
| The Poetical Works of William Drummond of Hawthornden | |