 | Poems, By J. D. [i.e. John Donne] |  |
This was for youth, Strength, Mirth, and wit that Time
Most count their golden Age; but t'was not thine
Thine was thy later yeares, so much refind
From youths Drosse, Mirth, & wit; as thy pure mind
Thought (like the Angels) nothing but the Praise
Of thy Creator, in those last, best Dayes.
Witnes this Booke, (thy Embleme) which begins
With Love; but endes, with Sighes, & Teares for sins.
IZ: WA:
Most count their golden Age; but t'was not thine
Thine was thy later yeares, so much refind
From youths Drosse, Mirth, & wit; as thy pure mind
Thought (like the Angels) nothing but the Praise
Of thy Creator, in those last, best Dayes.
Witnes this Booke, (thy Embleme) which begins
With Love; but endes, with Sighes, & Teares for sins.
IZ: WA:
| Poems, By J. D. [i.e. John Donne] | |