1. 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.
2. The Spring is past, and yet it hath not sprung;
The fruit is dead, and yet the leaves are green:
My youth is gone, and yet I am but young:
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.
3. I sought my death, and found it in my womb,
I look’d 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 am but made.
The glass is full, and now my glass is run,
And now I live, and now my life is done.
(Chidick Tychborn)
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Based on Topics: Life Poems, World Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Joy & Excitement Poems, Youth Poems, Pain Poems, Past Poems, Spring Poems, Running PoemsBased on Keywords: tares