Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. II. The Seventeenth Century: Ben Jonson to Dryden
Robert Herrick (15911674)The Mad Maids Song
G
Good morning, sir, to you;
Good morrow to mine own torn hair,
Bedabbled with the dew.
Good morrow to each maid;
That will with flowers the tomb bestrew
Wherein my Love is laid.
Alack and well-a-day!
For pity, sir, find out that bee,
Which bore my Love away.
I’ll seek him in your eyes;
Nay, now I think they ’ve made his grave
I’ th’ bed of strawberries.
The cold, cold earth doth shake him;
But I will go, or send a kiss
By you, sir, to awake him.
He knows well who do love him;
And who with green turfs rear his head,
And who do rudely move him.
With bands of cowslips bind him,
And bring him home;—but ’tis decreed
That I shall never find him.