Welcome back to the Daily Poem here on the Close Reeds Podcast Network. I'm David Kern.

Today's poem is by John Dunn, an English poet who lived from 1572 to 1631. He was certainly one of the

most famous poets ever to put pen to paper, or however he would have done it. You've heard from him on

this podcast before. You probably studied some of his poems in school or college, particularly

if you're an English major. Earlier this week, I shared with you a poem and I shared some comments on that poem from Carol Ruhans, who has a weekly column with the Guardian, the newspaper in the UK.

And I ran across something she shared on there, and it was a done poem that I was not overly familiar with.

I think I'd read it before, but I wasn't, I didn't know it well.

And it's a poem called Twickenham Garden, and I want to read this poem to you and then offer

some of her thoughts because I was kind of taken by it and wanted to share it with you. This is how

it goes.

Blasted with thighs and surrounded with tears, hither I come to seek to spring, and at mine eyes and at mine ears receive such bombs as else cure everything.

But, oh, self-trader, I do bring the spider love, which transubstantiates all, and can convert, and can convert manna to to gall and that this place may thoroughly be thought

true paradise i have the serpent brought to her wholesomer for me that winter did benight the glory of

this place and that a grave frost did forbid these trees to laugh and mock me to my face but that i may

not this disgrace endure nor nor yet leave loving,

love let me some senseless peace of this place be. Make me a mandrake, so I may grow here,

or a stone fountain weeping out my ear. Hither with crystal files, lovers come and take my tears,

which are love's wine, and

try your mistress tears at home, for all are false that taste not just like mine.

Alas, hearts do not in eyes shine, nor can you more judge women's thoughts by tears than

by her shadow what she wears.

O perverse sex, where none is true, but she, who's therefore true?

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