|
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] |