Poems of John Webster
|2.||A Land Dirge||1/3/2003|
|3.||A Monumental Column||1/3/2003|
|5.||Hark, now everything is still||5/31/2012|
|7.||Qualis vita, finis ita||5/31/2012|
|8.||The Madman's Song||4/20/2010|
|9.||The Shrouding of the Duchess of Malfi||1/3/2003|
All the flowers of the spring
Meet to perfume our burying;
These have but their growing prime,
And man does flourish but his time:
Survey our progress from our birth;
We are set, we grow, we turn to earth.
Courts adieu, and all delights,
All bewitching appetites!
Sweetest breath and clearest eye,