Poem By Ron Cummings

One thing I did alot of when I was in school was read. I read everything and it drove some people crazy. I was reading some Shakespeare the other day, just for the heck of it. I came across a small poem, or rather a sonnet, it really hit a nerve..I want you to read it as well. Alot of people wont just pick up Shakespeare, so alot of people would never have seen this until now...its from the Passionate Pilgrim Part VIII. Sweet rose, fair flower, untimely pluck'd,       soon vaded, Pluck'd in the bud, and vaded in the spring! Bright orient pearl, alack! too timely shaded! Fair creature, kill'd too soon by death's sharp       sting! Like a green plum that hangs upon a tree, And falls, through wind, before the fall       should be. I weep for thee, and yet no cause I have; For why? thou left'st me nothing in thy will. And yet thou left'st me more than I did       crave; For why? I craved nothing of thee still: O yes, dear friend, I pardon crave of thee; Thy discontent thou didst bequeath to me. I hope you see in this what I saw. A dear friend lost before his time, I never asked anything of him, yet he left me with much, yet what he left me with I crave more, I weep knowing that I will never see his bright face, big brown eyes, hear his odd humor (in which I kind of had a small hand in). I will never forget times had.