Tichborne's Elegy (1585)


 * My prime of youth is but a frost of cares,
 * My feast of joy is but a dish of pain,
 * My crop of corn is but a field of tares,
 * And all my good is but vain hope of gain;
 * The day is past, and yet I saw no sun,
 * And now I live, and now my life is done.


 * My tale was heard and yet it was not told,
 * My fruit is falne, and yet my leaves are green,
 * My youth is spent and yet I am not old,
 * I saw the world and yet I was not seen;
 * My thread is cut and yet it is not spun,
 * And now I live, and now my life is done.


 * I sought my death and found it in my womb,
 * I looked for life and saw it was a shade,
 * I trod the earth and knew it was my tomb,
 * And now I die, and now I was but made;
 * My glass is full, and now my glass is runne,
 * And now I live, and now my life is done.

Elegija