The Hag is astrideThis night for to ride,The Devill and shee together;Through thick and through thin,Now out and then in,Though ne'er so foul be the weather. A Thorn or a BurrShe takes for a Spurre, With a lash of a Bramble she rides now;Through Brakes and through Briars,O'er Ditches and Mires,She follows the Spirit that … Continue reading Poem – “The Hag”

Dull to myself, and almost dead to theseMy many fresh and fragrant mistresses:Lost to all music now; since every thingPuts on the semblance here of sorrowing.Sick is the land to' th'heart; and doth endureMore dangerous faintings by her desp'rate cure.But if that golden age would come again,And Charles here rule, as he before did reign;If … Continue reading Poem – “The Bad Season Makes the Poet Sad”