« ПретходнаНастави »
You violets that first appear,
By your pure purple mantles known
As if the spring were all your own,—
So when my Mistress shall be seen
Sir H. Wotton.
TO THE LADY MARGARET LEY.
DAUGHTER to that good Earl, once President
Till the sad breaking of that parliament
At Chaeronea, fatal to liberty,
Kill'd with report that old man eloquent ;
Though later born than to have known the days
Madam, methinks I see him living yet;
So well your words his noble virtues praise,
SWEET, be not proud of those two eyes
LOVE in thy youth, fair Maid, be wise;
And though each morning new arise
Yet we each day grow older.
Thou as Heaven art fair and young,
Thine eyes like twin stars shining;
But ere another day be sprung
All these will be declining.
Then winter comes with all his fears,
And all thy sweets shall borrow;
Too late then wilt thou shower thy tears,---
TO A ROSE.
Go, lovely Rose:
Tell her, that wastes her time and me,
That now she knows,
Then die! that she
The common fate of all things rare
How small a part of time they share
DRINK to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself but thee!
THERE is a garden in her face
Where roses and white lilies blow;
There cherries grow that none may buy,
Those cherries fairly do enclose
Of orient pearl a double row,
Which when her lovely laughter shows,
They look like rose-buds fill❜d with snow:
Her eyes like angels watch them still;
GET up, get up for shame! The blooming morn
See how Aurora throws her fair
Fresh-quilted colours through the air:
Each flower has wept, and bow'd toward the east,
Above an hour since; yet you not drest,
Nay not so much as out of bed?
When all the birds have matins said,
And sung their thankful hymns: 'tis sin,
Nay, profanation, to keep in,--
Whenas a thousand virgins on this day,
Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch-in May.