G E R A L D I N E   M O N K   &   J O H N   D O N N E
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A NOCTURNALL UPON S. LUCIES DAY BEING THE SHORTEST DAY

 

 

Tis the yeares midnight,
                  it is the dayes, Lucies,
who scarce seaven
                       hours
herself unmaskes.

So place Iraq
ever-so-gently
into a state of
pending
wrap it fast in
swaddling clothes
tie a tinsel tag
around
its sore and sorry toe –
                              let it go
for the worlds all
sap is sunke:

            The generall balme
            th'hydroptique earth
            hath drunk,
            whither, as to
            the beds-feet,
            life is shrunke,
            dead and enterr'd;

laugh at

            we their

                        Epitaph

 

 

n e x t

 

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