George Herbert

(3 April 1593 – 1 March 1633 / Montgomery, Wales)

Virtue - Poem by George Herbert

Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright
The bridal of the earth and sky:
The dew shall weep thy fall tonight,
For thou must die.

Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave,
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eyes:
Thy root is ever in its grave,
And thou must die.

Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie:
My music shows ye have your closes,
And all must die.

Only a sweet and virtuous soul,
LIke seasoned timber, never gives;
But though the whole world turn to coal.
Then chiefly lives.


Comments about Virtue by George Herbert

  • Rookie Abdulmalik Abdulrahman (12/22/2006 10:47:00 AM)

    I need the analysis abou this poem (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: music, spring, rose, sky, world



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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