About CoreAspect

BehaviourBlogFeelinginspirationalLife

The Bad Season Makes The Poet Sad – Poem by Robert Herrick

Dull to myself, and almost dead to these,
My many fresh and fragrant mistresses;
Lost to all music now, since every thing
Puts on the semblance here of sorrowing.
Sick is the land to th’ heart; and doth endure
More dangerous faintings by her desperate cure.
But if that golden age would come again,
And Charles here rule, as he before did reign;
If smooth and unperplex’d the seasons were,
As when the sweet Maria lived here;
I should delight to have my curls half drown’d
In Tyrian dews, and head with roses crown’d:
And once more yet, ere I am laid out dead,
Knock at a star with my exalted head.

Related posts
LifeRelationship

How to Recognize a Controlling Relationship

Life

What’s the Meaning of Life? A Guide to Live with Meaning

Life

10 Best Exercise Bike for Your Home Gym

Life

How I Learned the Importance of Cardio the Hard Way

Sign up for our Newsletter and
stay informed
[mc4wp_form id="14"]

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *