The Content Reader

Many important, high ranked and famous people spent time in the Tower, either to be released later on or go directly to the executioner. Many of them wrote poems to describe their peril. Here is one very touching from a Chideock Tichborne, a young gentleman writing to his wife. 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 past, and yet I saw no sun, And now I live, and now my life is done.   My tale is hear and yet it was not told, My fruit is fall’n and yet my leaves are green My youth is spent and yet I am not old,  I saw the world and yet I was not seen; My thread is cut and yet it is not spun, And now I live, and now my life is done.   I sought my death and found it in my womb, I looked for life and saw it was a shade, I trod the earth and knew it was my tomb, And now I die, and now I was but m...