University of Virginia Library



XVIII. His golden locks time hath to siluer turnde

His golden locks time hath to siluer turnde,
O time too swift, O swiftnes neuer ceasing,
His youth gainst time & age hath euer spurnd,
But spurnd in vaine, youth waneth by encreasing:
Beautie, strength, youth are flowers but fading seene,
Duty, Faith, Loue are roots and euer greene.
His helmet now shall make a hiue for bees,
And louers sonets turne to holy psalmes:
A man at armes must now serue on his knees,
And feed on prayers which are ages almes,
But though from court to cotage he departe
His saint is fure of his vnspotted hart.
And when he saddest sits in homely Cell,
Hele teach his swaines this Caroll for a songe,
Blest be the harts that wish my soueraigne well,
Curst be the soule that thinke her any wrong:
Goddes allow this aged man his right,
To be your beadsman now ye was your knight.