John Webster Poems
|1.||Hark, Now Everything Is Still||5/31/2012|
|2.||Qualis Vita, Finis Ita||5/31/2012|
|3.||A Land Dirge||1/3/2003|
|6.||A Monumental Column||1/3/2003|
|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,
Like perfumes, go out and die;
And consequently this is done
As shadows wait upon the sun.
Vain ambition of kings
Who seek by trophies and dead things
To leave a living name behind,
And weave but nets to catch the wind.