Quotations and Authors:
MOON. [within.] Here, mistress.
Bartholomew Fair Jonson, Ben 1614
NIGHT. How now, Ursula? in a heat, in a heat?
URS. My chair, you false faucet you; and my morning’s draught,
quickly, a bottle of ale, to quench me, rascal. I am all fire and fat,
Nightingale, I shall e’en melt away to the first woman, a rib again, I
am afraid. I do water the ground in knots, as I go, like a great
garden pot; you may follow me by the S.S. I make.
NIGHT. Alas, good Urse! was Zekiel here this morning?
LI.
In anxious secrecy they took it home,
And then the prize was all for Isabel:
She calm’d its wild hair with a golden comb,
And all around each eye’s sepulchral cell
Pointed each fringed lash; the smeared loam
With tears, as chilly as a dripping well,
She drench’d away:–and still she comb’d, and kept
Sighing all day–and still she kiss’d, and wept.LII.
Then in a silken scarf,–sweet with the dews
Of precious flowers pluck’d in Araby, 410
And divine liquids come with odorous ooze
Through the cold serpent-pipe refreshfully,–
She wrapp’d it up; and for its tomb did choose
A garden-pot, wherein she laid it by,
And cover’d it with mould, and o’er it set
Sweet Basil, which her tears kept ever wet.LIII.
Isabella Keats, John 1818
And she forgot the stars, the moon, and sun,
And she forgot the blue above the trees,
And she forgot the dells where waters run,
And she forgot the chilly autumn breeze; 420
She had no knowledge when the day was done,
And the new morn she saw not: but in peace
Hung over her sweet Basil evermore,
And moisten’d it with tears unto the core.