Sonnets by Edward Moxon |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
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| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
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| XIV. |
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| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. | SONNET XXIV.
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| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
 | II. |
 | Sonnets |  |
30
SONNET XXIV.
[The meads are scatter'd with the pride of Spring]
The meads are scatter'd with the pride of Spring;Great Nature mourns like a deposed Queen,
Her vestments rent; sad Summer quits the scene,
With scarce a voice to chaunt her praise, or sing
The unhallow'd change. How soon decay doth fling
Ev'n o'er the fairest the tomb's sickening hue!
Hark! 'tis the autumnal gale on restless wing,
With Desolation eager to pursue
Her ruthless course. The bright hours hastening flee,
Yet leave to those of melancholy mood
Much pleasure; such I find, and pleasing brood
O'er nature most in her humility.
Unlike the world, whose smiles few then can boast,
In her decay I love, and love her most.
| Sonnets | |