122       Sonnet 31

      Forsaken woods, trees with sharpe storms opprest

      whose leaves once hidd, the sun, now strew the grownd

      once bred delight, now scorn, late usde to sownd

      of sweetest birds, now of hoars crowes the nest

5          Gardens which once in thowsand coulers drest

      shewed natures pryde: now in dead sticks abownd

      in whome prowd summers treasure late was fownd

      now but the rags, of winters torn coate rest

      Medows whose sydes, late fayre brookes kist now slyme

10         embraced holds: feelds whose youth green and brave

      promist long lyfe, now frosts lay in the grave

      Say all and I with them: what doth not tyme!

      But they whoe knew tyme, tyme will finde again

      I that fayre tymes lost, on tyme call in vaine