| James and Mary Ford, eds. Every Day in the Year. 1902. | | | | December 21 | | A Nocturnal upon St. Lucie’s Day | | By John Donne (1573–1631) |
| | (See full text) (Being the Shortest Day, December 21)
’TIS the year’s midnight, and ’tis the day’s, | |
| the yeares midnight, and it is the dayes, | |
| Lucie’s who scarce seven hours herself unmasks, | |
| The Sun is spent, and now his flasks | |
| Send forth light squibs, no constant rays; | 5 |
| The whole world’s sap is sunk: | |
| The general balm th' hydroptic earth hath drunk, | |
| Whither, as to the bed’s-feet, life is shrunk, | |
| Dead and interred; yet all these seem to laugh, | |
| Compared with me, who am their epitaph. * * * * * | 10 | | | |
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