It's been trickier than I thought to get back into my stitch rotation - got in less than 2 hours yesterday, but I'm sure I'll get there. Hopefully today will be better.

Slow, Slow, Fresh Fount, Keep Time with My Salt Tears

Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears;
Yet slower yet, oh faintly gentle springs:
List to the heavy part the music bears,
"Woe weeps out her division when she sings."
Droop herbs and flowers;
Fall grief in showers;
"Our beauties are not ours":
Like melting snow upon some craggy hill,
Drop, drop, drop, drop,
Since nature's pride is, now, a withered daffodil.

Ben Jonson
1572 - 1637