When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time`s wast:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in deaths dateless night,
And weep afresh love`s long-since cancelll`d woe,
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restor`d, and sorrows end.
Sorry I got your name wrong. Poem modified.
Replies
Roses are red
Violets are blue
You're being cringey
And creepy dude
Robbie is a wordsmith !!!
nice work 👏🏻
Roses are blue
Violets are red
I might be colour-blind
FMD!
Gold
Acapulco?
Classic
Eloquently deep!
Poor robbie. Reflections of a love held but not returned.