412. The Mad Maid's Song
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 maidThat will with flowers the tomb bestrewWherein my love is laid.
Ah! woe is me, woe, woe is me,Alack and well-a-day!For pity, sir, find out that beeWhich bore my love away.
I'll seek him in your bonnet brave,I'll seek him in your eyes;Nay, now I think th'ave made his graveI' th' bed of strawberries.
I'll seek him there; I know ere thisThe cold, cold earth doth shake him;But I will go or send a kissBy 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 decreedThat I shall never find him.
Words in this poem
- bestrew v. t.
- To strew or scatter over; to besprinkle. [Spelt also bestrow.]
- alack interj.
- An exclamation expressive of sorrow. [Prob. from ah! lack! OE. lak loss, failure, misfortune. See Lack.]
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
412. The Mad Maid's Song is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Hesperides & Noble Numbers: Vol. 1 and 2, Project Gutenberg ebook #22421; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Robert Herrick, 412. The Mad Maid's Song, in Hesperides (1648), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #22421, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/herrick-hesperides/412-the-mad-maid-s-song.html, id L05413.
Form and metre
412. The Mad Maid's Song is 28 lines in 7 stanzas of 4 lines each. Every stanza rhymes ABAB. The metre is common measure, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%). 96% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.2 syllables. 1 line ends on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 25% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in common measure.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABAB fairA · youB · hairA · dewB
- 2 ABAB tooA · maidB · bestrewA · laidB
- 3 ABAB meA · dayB · beeA · awayB
- 4 ABAB braveA · eyesB · graveA · strawberriesB
- 5 ABAB thisA · himB · kissA · himB
- 6 ABAB deadA · himB · headA · himB
- 7 ABAB heedA · himB · decreedA · himB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against common measure. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Good-morrow to the day so fair, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Good-morning, sir, to you; | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Good-morrow to mine own torn hair, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Bedabbled with the dew. | 5 | ····· |
| Good-morning to this primrose too, | 8 | ·/˘··/·· |
| Good-morrow to each maid | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| That will with flowers the tomb bestrew | 8 | ···/··˘/ |
| Wherein my love is laid. | 6 | ······ |
| Ah! woe is me, woe, woe is me, | 8 | ········ |
| Alack and well-a-day! | 6 | ˘/···· |
| For pity, sir, find out that bee | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Which bore my love away. | 6 | ····˘/ |
| I'll seek him in your bonnet brave, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| I'll seek him in your eyes; | 6 | ······ |
| Nay, now I think th'ave made his grave | 8 | ········ |
| I' th' bed of strawberries. | 6 | ···/·˘ |
| I'll seek him there; I know ere this | 8 | ········ |
| The cold, cold earth doth shake him; | 7 | ······· |
| But I will go or send a kiss | 8 | ········ |
| By you, sir, to awake him. | 7 | ····˘/· |
| Pray, hurt him not, though he be dead, | 8 | ········ |
| He knows well who do love him, | 7 | ······· |
| And who with green turfs rear his head, | 8 | ········ |
| And who do rudely move him. | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| He's soft and tender (pray take heed); | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| With bands of cowslips bind him, | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| And bring him home; but 'tis decreed | 8 | ······˘/ |
| That I shall never find him. | 7 | ···/˘·· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.