| |
When I love, as some have told
Love I shall, when I am old,
O ye Graces! make me fit
For the welcoming of it!
Clean my rooms, as temples be,
To entertain that deity;
Give me words wherewith to woo,
Suppling and successful too;
Winning postures; and withal,
Manners each way musical;
Sweetness to allay my sour
And unsmooth behaviour:
For I know you have the skill
Vines to prune, though not to kill;
And of any wood ye see,
You can make a Mercury.
Robert Herrick
Read poems about / on: love
|
|
User Rating: |
|
5.0
/10
(1 votes) |
|
|
|
Robert Herrick
Free
Poetry E-Book:
E-mail this poem to e friend