Chorus.
Robert Herrick
Thrice, and above, blest, my soul's half, art thou,
My dearest Love, since thou wilt go,
While the milder fates consent,
Lord, Thou hast given me a cell
Virgins promised when I died,
Not all thy flushing suns are set,
When I behold a forest spread
What needs complaints,
Fled are the frosts, and now the fields appear
Here, a little child, I stand,
Ah, Posthumus! our years hence fly
You may vow I'll not forget
For those my unbaptized rhymes,
When I a verse shall make,
These springs were maidens once that loved,
Life is the body's light; which, once declining,
Great men by small means oft are overthrown;
When with the virgin morning thou dost rise,
Among the myrtles as I walk'd
No fault in women, to refuse
Great cities seldom rest; if there be none
The mellow touch of music most doth wound
To gather flowers, Sappha went,
Kindle the Christmas brand, and then
Sweet country life, to such unknown,
Beauty no other thing is, than a beam
The Rose was sick, and smiling died;
To the Right Honourable Mildmay, Earl of Westmoreland
Holy-Rood, come forth and shield
I dreamt the Roses one time went
Ask me why I send you here
First, April, she with mellow showers
Am I despised, because you say;
While fates permit us, let's be merry;
Open thy gates
Life of my life, take not so soon thy flight,
Wanton wenches do not bring
When I consider, dearest, thou dost stay
Go, pretty child, and bear this flower
Begin to charm, and as thou strok'st mine ears
Charms, that call down the moon from out her sphere,
Charm me asleep, and melt me so
Music, thou queen of heaven, care-charming spell,
Why do ye weep, sweet babes? can tears
Why, Madam, will ye longer weep,
Go, happy Rose, and interwove
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Reach with your whiter hands to me
Thou art to all lost love the best,
Here a pretty baby lies
Here she lies, a pretty bud,
Men say you're fair; and fair ye are, 'tis true;
First, for effusions due unto the dead,
Sweet Amarillis, by a spring's
Under a lawn, than skies more clear,
I have lost, and lately, these
Wrinkles no more are, or no less,
These fresh beauties, we can prove,