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DULLNESS, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Why do I languish thus, drooping and dull
Last Line: What angel fit?
Subject(s): Consolation

WHY do I languish thus, drooping and dull,
As if I were all earth?
O give me quicknesse, that I may with mirth
Praise thee brim-full!

The wanton lover in a curious strain
Can praise his fairest fair;
And with quaint metaphors her curled hair
Curl o'er again:

Thou art my lovelinesse, my life, my light,
Beautie alone to me:
Thy bloudy death, and undeserv'd, makes thee
Pure red and white.

When all perfections as but one appeare,
That those thy form doth shew,
The very dust, where thou dost tread and go,
Makes beauties here.

Where are my lines then? my approaches? views?
Where are my window songs?
Lovers are still pretending, and ev'n wrongs
Sharpen their Muse.

But I am lost in flesh, whose sugred lyes
Still mock me, and grow bold:
Sure thou didst put a minde there, if I could
Finde where it lies.

Lord, cleare thy gift, that with a constant wit
I may but look towards thee:
Look onely; for to love thee, who can be,
What angel fit?

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