Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from Farewell to Poesy and Other Pieces
That sang me songs when spring was gone, And birds of freedom were not heard; Nor dreamt thou wouldst turn false and cold When needed most, by men grown old.
Sweet Poesy, why art thou dumb! I fear thy singing days are done; The poet in my soul is dying, And every charm in life is gone; In vain birds scold and ?owers do plead The poet dies, his heart doth bleed.
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