Verse > Anthologies > Andrew Macphail, ed. > The Book of Sorrow
Andrew Macphail, comp.  The Book of Sorrow.  1916.
XXVIII. Loneliness
By William Browne (c. 1590–c. 1645)
SO shuts the marigold her leaves
  At the departure of the sun;
So from the honeysuckle sheaves
  The bee goes when the day is done;
So sits the turtle when she is but one,        5
And so all woe, as I since she is gone.
To some few birds kind Nature hath
  Made all the summer as one day:
Which once enjoy’d, cold winter’s wrath
  As night they sleeping pass away.        10
Those happy creatures are, that know not yet
The pain to be deprived or to forget.
I oft have heard men say there be
  Some that with confidence profess
The helpful Art of Memory:        15
  But could they teach Forgetfulness,
I’d learn; and try what further art could do
To make me love her and forget her too.

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