A MEDITATION FOR HIS MISTRESS

 You are a Tulip seen to-day,
But, Dearest, of so short a stay,
That where you grew, scarce man can say.


You are a lovely July-flower;
Yet one rude wind, or ruffling shower,
Will force you hence, and in an hour.


You are a sparkling Rose i'th' bud,
Yet lost, ere that chaste flesh and blood
Can show where you or grew or stood.


You are a full-spread fair-set Vine,
And can with tendrils love entwine;
Yet dried, ere you distil your wine.


You are like Balm, enclosed well
In amber, or some crystal shell;
Yet lost ere you transfuse your smell.


You are a dainty Violet;
Yet wither'd, ere you can be set
Within the virgins coronet.


You are the Queen all flowers among;
But die you must, fair maid, ere long,
As he, the maker of this song.

Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem |

Poems are below...