Authors:
  • A ward, and still in bonds, one day
    I stole abroad;
    It was high spring, and all the way
    Primrosed and hung with shade;
    Yet was it frost within,
    And surly winds
    Blasted my infant buds, and sin
    Like clouds eclipsed my mind.

    Henry Vaughan (1976). “The complete poems”, Penguin Group USA