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If into others hands these Reliques came.
As 'twas humility
To afford to it all that a soul can do,
So 'tis some bravery,
That since you would have none of me, I bury some of you.
The Blossom.
Little think'st thou poor flower,
Whom I have watc'd six or seven dayes,
And seen thy birth, and seen what every hour
Gave to thy growth, thee to this height to raise,
And now dost laugh and triumph on this bough,
Little think'st thou
That it will freeze anon, and that I shall
To morrow finde the faln, or not at all.
Little think'st thou (poor Heart
That labourest yet to nestle thee,
And think'st by hovering here to get a part
In a forbidden or forbidding tree,
And hop'st her stiffness by long siege to bow:)
Little think'st thou,
That thou to morrow, ere the Sun doth wake,
Must with this Sun, and me a journey take.
But thou which lov'st to be
Subtle to plague thy self, will say,
Alas, if you must go, what's that to me?
Here lies my business, and here I will stay:
You go to friends, whose love and means present
Various content.

[CW: To]