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(c. 24 August 1562 - 20 September 1586 / Southampton, England)

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My Prime of Youth Is But a Frost of Cares

My prime of youth is but a frost of cares,
My feast of joy is but a dish of pain,
My crop of corn is but a field of tares,
And all my good is but vain hope of gain.
The day is gone and I yet I saw no sun,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

The spring is past, and yet it hath not sprung,
The fruit is dead, and yet the leaves are green,
My youth is gone, and yet I am but young,
I saw the world, and yet I was not seen,
My thread is cut, and yet it was not spun,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

I sought my death and found it in my womb,
I look't for life and saw it was a shade,
I trode the earth and knew it was my tomb,
And now I die, and now I am but made.
The glass is full, and now the glass is run,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003


Read poems about / on: spring, green, joy, hope, pain, death, sun, life, world, running

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  • Bryan Baker (2/4/2014 10:36:00 PM)

    It's inconceivable that the poet wrote this on the eve of his execution. He would have known of the horrible death that awaited him the next morning (hanging, drawing, and quartering surrounded by a crazed mob howling for his blood) , a fact that would have made the writing of poetry the last thing on his mind. It's more likely that he composed the poem sometime during what was probably a lengthy imprisonment leading up to his execution and it was only afterwards that the story was concocted that he penned it the night before his death.

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  • Theorem Thetruthserum (9/11/2005 11:25:00 PM)

    very interesting poem on a conclusion of a short life.

  • S Jones (2/22/2005 6:09:00 PM)

    Chidiock Tichborne was convicted as a plotter in the Babington Conspiracy, a Catholic plot that aimed to assassinate Queen Elizabeth I and put Mary Queen of Scots on the English throne. Tichborne was executed on September 20th 1586. He wrote the poem on the eve of his execution.

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