The Mad Maid’s Song, by Robert Herrick


The Mad Maid’s Song, by Robert Herrick

Good-morrow to the day so fair,
Good-morning, sir, to you;
Good-morrow to mine own torn hair
Bedabbled with the dew.

Good-morning to this primrose too,
Good-morrow to each maid
That will with flowers the tomb bestrew
Wherein my love is laid.

Ah! woe is me, woe, woe is me!
Alack and well-a-day!
For pity, sir, find out that bee
Which bore my love away.

I’ll seek him in your bonnet brave,
I’ll seek him in your eyes;
Nay, now I think they’ve made his grave
I’ th’ bed of strawberries.

I’ll seek him there; I know ere this
The cold, cold earth doth shake him;
But I will go, or send a kiss
By you, sir, to awake him.

Pray hurt him not; though he be dead,
He knows well who do love him,
And who with green turfs rear his head,
And who do rudely move him.

He ‘s soft and tender (pray take heed);
With bands of cowslips bind him,
And bring him home—but ’tis decreed
That I shall never find him!

Trend of the mad maid ‘s song in printed material over time

Gary Martin is a writer and researcher on the origins of phrases and the creator of the Phrase Finder website. Over the past 26 years more than 700 million of his pages have been downloaded by readers. He is one of the most popular and trusted sources of information on phrases and idioms.

Gary Martin

Writer and researcher on the origins of phrases and the creator of the Phrase Finder website. Over the past 26 years more than 700 million of his pages have been downloaded by readers. He is one of the most popular and trusted sources of information on phrases and idioms.
The Mad Maid’s Song, by Robert Herrick

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