For Sir Henry Lee

1. His golden locks Time hath to silver turned.
O Time too swift, O swiftness never ceasing:
His youth `gainst Time and Age hath ever spurned,
But spurned in vain; youth... ×èòàòü äàëüøå
For Sir Henry Lee

1. His golden locks Time hath to silver turned.
O Time too swift, O swiftness never ceasing:
His youth `gainst Time and Age hath ever spurned,
But spurned in vain; youth waneth by increasing.
Beauty, strength, youth are flowers but fading seen;
Duty, faith, love are roots, and ever green.

2. His helmet now shall make a hive for bees,
And lovers` sonnets turn to holy psalms.
A man at arms must now serve on his knees,
And feed on prayers which are Age`s alms.
But though from Court to cottage he depart,
His Saint is sure of his unspotted heart.

3. And when he saddest sits in homely cell,
He`ll teach his swains this carol for a song:
Blest be the hearts that wish my Sov`reign well.
Curst be the soul that think her [him] any wrong.
Goddess [Ye gods], allow this aged man his right
To be your beadsman now, that was your knight.

Õ Ñâåðíóòü

The First Booke of Songs or Ayres (1597): ¹18 `His golden locks`,  (Äîóëåíä)
Àïðåëü 2004 ã., Øâåöèÿ.
       
 
     
Íàøè êîíòàêòû