Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Against Melancholy
"Against Melancholy," in The Harmony of the Muses: or, The Gentlemans and Ladies Choisest Recreation; Full of various, pure, and transcendent Wit (London: Printed by T.W. for William Gilbertson, 1654), p. 101:
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Go damned Melancholy, get thee hence,
Thou hell-bred fury, torment of the mind,
Weakner of wit, abuser of the sence,
Within whose bounds al mischiefs are confin'd
Thou sullen sin, souls torture day and night,
Health-killing humour, Harbinger of Death,
Grave to content, darkner of beauties light,
Unto all good thou art the floud of Leath;
A waking dream, a spur to jealousie;
A fond conveyer of a thousand toyes;
The ready path which leads to Lunacie,
Is this bereaver of our earthly joyes:
The Gods, I think, when we deserv their curse,
Inflict this plague, because there is no worse.
