Aspatia's Song; Melancholy

p. 321

John Fletcher

¶[ 7 5 7 9 - / 6 2 5 ]

Aspatia's Song

¶LAY a garland on my hearseOf the dismal yew;

p. 322

John Webster

¶Maidens, willow branches bear;Say, I died true.

¶My love was false, but I was firmFrom my hour of birth.Upon my buried body lieLightly, gende earthl

Melancholy

¶HENCE, all you vain delights,As short as are the nights,Wherein you spend your folly:There's nought in this life sweetIf man were wise to see't,But only melancholy,O sweetest melancholy!Welcome , folded arms, and fixed eyes,A sigh that piercing mortifies,A look that's fasten'd to the ground,A tongue chain'd up without a sound!Fountain heads and pathless groves,Places which pale passion loves!Moonlight walks, when all the fowlsAre warmly housed save bats and owls!A midnight bell, a parting groan!These are the sounds we feed upon;Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley;Nothing's so dainty sweet as lovely melancholy.