MRS. ELIZ. WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF
THE LOST SHEPHERDESS.
by Robert Herrick
AMONG the myrtles as I walk'd,
Love and my sighs thus intertalk'd :
Tell me, said I, in deep distress,
Where I may find my shepherdess.
Thou fool, said love, know'st thou not this ?
In everything that's sweet she is.
In yond' carnation go and seek,
There thou shalt find her lip and cheek :
In that enamell'd pansy by,
There thou shalt have her curious eye :
In bloom of peach and rose's bud,
There waves the streamer of her blood.
'Tis true, said I, and thereupon
I went to pluck them one by one,
To make of parts a union :
But on a sudden all were gone.
At which I stopp'd ; said love, these be
The true resemblances of thee ;
For, as these flowers, thy joys must die,
And in the turning of an eye :
And all thy hopes of her must wither,
Like those short sweets, ere knit together.
Herrick, Robert. Works of Robert Herrick. vol I.
Alfred Pollard, ed.
London, Lawrence & Bullen, 1891. 132-133.
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