GOOD aged Bale: that with thy hoary heares Doste yet persyste to turne the painful booke, O happye man, that hast obtained such yeares, And leavst not yet, on papers pale to looke, Gyve over now to beate thy weryed brayne, And rest thy pen that long hath laboured soore. For aged men unfit sue is such paine, And the beseems to laboure now no more, But thou I thynke Don Platoes part will playe With booke in hand, to have thy dyeng day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MEMORY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE TURNSTILE by WILLIAM BARNES EPITAPHIUM CITHARISTRIAE by VICTOR GUSTAVE PLARR WINTER: MY SECRET by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE CHILD ALONE: 6. BLOCK CITY by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON ON HIS RETURN FROM SPAIN by THOMAS WYATT WINDS OF LIFE by MARJORIE DUGDALE ASHE |