sullen

And sullen I forsook the imperfect feast.

Still she entreats, and prettily entreats, / For to a pretty ear she tunes her tale; / Still is he sullen, still he lours and frets, / ‘Twixt crimson shame and anger ashy-pale;

Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change;

a sullen atmosphere

The larger [stream] was placid, and even sullen, in its course.

When ends life's transient dream, / when death’s cold, sullen stream / shall o'er me roll,