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.
264. TO THE KING.
If when these lyrics, Cæsar, you shall hear,
And that Apollo shall so touch your ear
As for to make this, that, or any one,
Number your own, by free adoption;
That verse, of all the verses here, shall be
The heir to this great realm of poetry.
265. TO THE QUEEN.
Goddess of youth, and lady of the spring,
Most fit to be the consort to a king,
Be pleas'd to rest you in this sacred grove
Beset with myrtles, whose each leaf drops love.
