So quicke, so hot, so mad is thy fond sute, So rude so tedious growne, in urging me, That faine I would with losse make thy tongue mute, And yeeld some little grace to quiet thee. An houre with thee I care not to converse: For I would not be counted too perverse. But roofes too hot would prove for men all fire, And hills too high for my unused pace; The grove is charg'd with thornes and the bold bryer; Gray Snakes the meadowes shrowde in every place: A yellow Frog, alas wil fright me so As I should start and tremble as I goe. Since then I can on earth no fit roome finde, In heav'n I am resolv'd with you to meete; Till then for Hopes sweet sake rest your tir'd mind, And not so much as see mee in the streete: A heavenly meeting one day wee shall have, But never as you dreame, in bed, or grave.
- by Thomas Campion (1567 - 1620), first published 1617 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by Thomas Campion (1567 - 1620), "So quicke, so hot, so mad", published 1617. [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Linda Godry
This text was added to the website: 2006-12-09
Line count: 18
Word count: 162