Henry Charles Beeching, ed. (1859–1919). Lyra Sacra: A Book of Religious Verse. 1903.
By William Drummond (1585–1649)No Trust in Time
| LOOK how the flower, which ling’ringly doth fade, | |
| The morning’s darling late, the summer’s queen, | |
| Spoil’d of that juice, which kept it fresh and green, | |
| As high as it did raise, bows low the head. | |
| Right so my life, contentment being dead, | 5 |
| Or in their contraries but only seen, | |
| With swifter speed declines than erst it spread, | |
| And, blasted, scarce now shows what it hath been. | |
| As doth the pilgrim therefore, whom the night | |
| By darkness would imprison on his way, | 10 |
| Think on thy home, my soul, and think aright | |
| Of what yet rests thee of life’s wasting day: | |
| Thy sun posts westward, passed is thy morn, | |
| And twice it is not given thee to be born. | |