Hence, all you vain delights
Hence, all you vain delights
Original Text
Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, Comedies and tragedies (London, 1647).
1Hence, all you vain delights,
2As short as are the nights
3 Wherein you spend your folly,
4There's nought in this life sweet,
5If man were wise to see't
6 But only melancholy,
7 Oh, sweetest melancholy.
8Welcome, folded arms and fixed eyes,
9A sigh that piercing mortifies,
10A look that's fast'ned to the ground,
11A tongue chain'd up without a sound.
12Fountain-heads, and pathless groves;
13Places which pale passion loves,
14Moonlight walks, when all the fowls
15Are warmly hous'd, save bats and owls,
16 A midnight bell, a parting groan,
17 These are the sounds we feed upon;
18Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley,
19Nothing's so dainty sweet as lovely melancholy.
Publication Start Year
1647
RPO poem Editors
N. J. Endicott
RPO Edition
2RP.1. 247; RPO 1996-2000.
Form