Hence, all you vain delights, <br />As short as are the nights <br />Wherein you spend your folly! <br />There's nought in this life sweet, <br />If man were wise to see it, <br />But only melancholy; <br />Oh, sweetest melancholy! <br />Welcome folded arms, and fixed eyes, <br />A sigh that piercing mortifies, <br />A look that's fastened to the ground, <br />A tongue chained up, without a sound! <br />Fountain-head and pathless groves, <br />Places which pale passion loves! <br />Moonlight walks, when all the fowls <br />Are warmly housed, save bats and owls! <br />A midnight bell, a parting groan! <br />These are the sounds we feed upon; <br />Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley: <br />Nothing's so dainty sweet as lovely melancholy.<br /><br />Beaumont and Fletcher<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poet-s-mood/
