The Bad Season Makes the Poet Sad
The Bad Season Makes the Poet Sad
Original Text
Robert Herrick, Hesperides (London: for John Williams and F. Eglesfield to be sold by Thomas Hunt, 1648), of which a section called "His Noble Numbers: or, his Pious Pieces" has a separate title-page dated 1647. Facs. edn. Menston: Scolar, 1969. PR 3512 H4 1648A ROBA
1Dull to myself, and almost dead to these
2My many fresh and fragrant mistresses;
3Lost to all music now, since everything
4Puts on the semblance here of sorrowing.
5Sick is the land to th' heart, and doth endure
6More dangerous faintings by her desp'rate cure.
7But if that golden age would come again
9If smooth and unperplex'd the seasons were
10As when the sweet Maria lived here;
11I should delight to have my curls half drown'd
13And once more yet (ere I am laid out dead)
14Knock at a star with my exalted head.
Notes
8] Charles: Charles I. Back to Line
12] Tyrian dews: Tyre was famous for purple or crimson dyes. Back to Line
Publication Start Year
1648
RPO poem Editors
N. J. Endicott
RPO Edition
3RP 1.196-97.
Form