Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. II. The Seventeenth Century: Ben Jonson to Dryden
John Fletcher (1579–1625)Song: ‘Hence, all you vain delights’ (from The Nice Valour)
H
As short as are the nights
Wherein you spend your folly!
There ’s nought in this life sweet,
If 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 fowls
Are warmly hous’d 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.