Discussion in 'Poetry and Lyrics Forum' started by cronix, Oct 18, 2006.

  1. cronix

    cronix New Member

    The time when first I fell in love,
    Which now I must lament;
    The year wherein I lost such time
    To compass my content.

    The day wherein I saw too late
    The follies of a lover;
    The hour wherein I found such loss
    As care cannot recover.

    And last, the minute of mishap,
    Which makes me thus to plain
    The doleful fruits of lover's suits,
    Which labour lose in vain:

    Doth make me solemnly protest,
    As I with pain do prove,
    There is no time, year, day, nor hour,
    Nor minute, good to love.
    nimisha and Garima like this.
  2. cronix

    cronix New Member

    comments please
  3. alphanomad

    alphanomad New Member

    Nice work , man !The use of archaic english words is interesting ,different..!
  4. cronix

    cronix New Member

    ^^^thnks man....
  5. cronix

    cronix New Member

    hey guys.... this is my first poem.... so comments please good or bad
  6. #iR@


    @ cronix...dats really good work! post more of ur stuff! :)
  7. nimisha

    nimisha .:Forum Leader:.

    i wonder why so less comments for such a wonderful poem..
    reps for u!! keep posting.

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