A Prety toye written upon Time

A prety toye written upon Time.
A S I, of late, this other day
lay musing in my bed,
And thinking vpon sundrie toyes
that then came in my head:
Among the rest, I thought vpon
the setting out of Tyme:
And thinking so vpon the same
I wrote this ragged rime.
Time is set out, with head all balde
saue one odde lock before:
Which locke if once you doo let slip,
then looke for Time no more.
But if you hold him fast by that
and stoutly doo him stay:
Then shall ye know how he dooth passe
before he goe his way.
And if you keepe him tide by that
good seruice will he doo
In euery worke, what so it be.
that you will put him to:
So that you looke vnto his worke
that he not idle stand:
For if he doo, some knauish worke
himself will take in hand
And the twere better want the knaue
then haue him serue you so;
When you doo think he dooth you good.
y t he should worke your wo.
I reade, besydes, he painted is
with winges, forsooth, to flie:
And Mower like, with Sithe in hand
and working earnestly:
And in his worke still singing thus:
This dare I boldly saye,
Saue Vertue all things I cut downe.
that stand within my way.
But Vertue neuer will decay
she goes before me still:
But since I cannot let her stand
Ile cut elsewhere my fill.
But tis no matter, hold him fast
by that same lock, I say,
And neither words, nor yet his wings
shall help him get away
By chaunce my selfe haue caught him fast
but euen this other day;
And by that locke I holde him fast,
for slipping yet away.
And by that locke, as thus aduisde
I meane to holde him so,
But I will know or ere he passe
which way he meanes to go.
And since I caught him so I thinke
he hath not idle stood,
But somewhat he is dooing still
although but little good.
And as this morning I, by chaunce
did see him idle stand,
I thought it good to make him take
a Pen and Inck in bande:
And hauing little else to doo,
to spend a little time,
In true discription of himselfe
to pen this trifling rime.
Which time nor well nor yet ill spent.
stands till an other time.
Some better seruice for to doo:
and so I ende my rime.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.