THE SHOWER OF BLOSSOMS. by Robert Herrick LOVE in a shower of blossoms came Down, and half drown'd me with the same : The blooms that fell were white and red ; But with such sweets comminglèd, As whether, this, I cannot tell My sight was pleas'd more, or my smell : But true it was, as I roll'd there, Without a thought of hurt or fear, Love turn'd himself into a bee, And with his javelin wounded me : From which mishap this use I make; Where most sweets are, there lies a snake, Kisses and favours are sweet things ; But those have thorns and these have stings. Source: Herrick, Robert. Works of Robert Herrick. vol II. Alfred Pollard, ed. London, Lawrence & Bullen, 1891. 102.
Site copyright ©1996-2002 Anniina Jokinen. All Rights Reserved. |