HIS LACHRYMÆ ; OR, MIRTH TURNED TO
MOURNING.

by Robert Herrick

      CALL me no more,
      As heretofore,
The music of a feast ;
      Since now, alas !
      The mirth that was
In me is dead or ceas'd.

      Before I went
      To banishment
Into the loathed west,
      I could rehearse
      A lyric verse,
And speak it with the best.

      But time, ah me !
      Has laid, I see,
My organ fast asleep,
      And turned my voice
      Into the noise
Of those that sit and weep.



Source:
Herrick, Robert. Works of Robert Herrick. vol I.
Alfred Pollard, ed.
London, Lawrence & Bullen, 1891. 180-181.


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