George Wither Poems
- A Christmas Carol So now is come our joyful'st feast, Let ...
- Shall I Wasting In Despair Shall I wasting in despair Die ...
- I Loved A Lass I loved a lass, a fair one, As fair as e’er ...
- The Choice Me so oft my fancy drew Here and there, that I ...
- A Widow's Hymn How near me came the hand of Death, When at ...
- Her Beauty Her true beauty leaves behind Apprehensions in my...
- A Sonnet Upon A Stolen Kiss Now gentle sleep hath clos'd up ...
George Wither was an English poet, pamphleteer, and satirist. He was a prolific writer who adopted a deliberate plainness of style;he was several times imprisoned. C. V. Wedgwood wrote "every so often in the barren acres of his verse is a stretch enlivened by real wit and observation, or fired with a sudden intensity of feeling".
Context and poetic reputation
Wither has been classified as a Spenserian, with Michael Drayton, Giles Fletcher, Phineas Fletcher, and Henry More. The early Jacobean Spenserians were generally republican rather than imperial (at least in terms of ancient Rome), of the "country party" rather than the "court party", ... more »
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Comments about George Wither
A Christmas Carol
So now is come our joyful'st feast,
Let every man be jolly.
Each room with ivy leaves is drest,
And every post with holly.
Though some churls at our mirth repine,
Round your foreheads garlands twine,
Drown sorrow in a cup of wine,
And let us all be merry.
Now all our neighbors' chimneys smoke,
And Christmas blocks are burning;
Their ovens they with bak'd-meats choke,
And all their spits are turning.
Without the door let sorrow lie,
And if for cold it hap to die,
We'll bury 't in a Christmas pie,
And evermore be merry.
Now every lad is ...