Must say, E.S. piles it on a bit at the outset of Februarie in The Shepheardes Calendar. How about this from the Argvment?:
It specially conteyneth a discourse of old age, in the persone of Thenot an olde Shepheard, who for his crookednesse and vnlustiness is scorned of Cuddie an vnhappy Heardmans boye. The matter very well accordeth with the season of the moneth, the year now drouping, and as it were, drawing his last age. For as in this time of yeare, so then in our bodies there is a dry and withering cold, which congealeth the crudled blood, and frieseth the wetherbeaten flesh, with stormes of Fortune, and hoare frosts of Care.
I get the point about the storms and care and the freezing flesh, especially having encountered some pretty fierce air-conditioning today, but happily my year doesn't seem to be drooping at all. Just revving up to full steam ahead, especially with a break for Chinese New Year lurking just around the corner.
No comments:
Post a Comment