MRS. ELIZ. WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF THE LOST SHEPHERDESS. by Robert Herrick AMONG the myrtles as I walk'd, Love and my sighs thus intertalk'd : Tell me, said I, in deep distress, Where I may find my shepherdess. Thou fool, said love, know'st thou not this ? In everything that's sweet she is. In yond' carnation go and seek, There thou shalt find her lip and cheek : In that enamell'd pansy by, There thou shalt have her curious eye : In bloom of peach and rose's bud, There waves the streamer of her blood. 'Tis true, said I, and thereupon I went to pluck them one by one, To make of parts a union : But on a sudden all were gone. At which I stopp'd ; said love, these be The true resemblances of thee ; For, as these flowers, thy joys must die, And in the turning of an eye : And all thy hopes of her must wither, Like those short sweets, ere knit together. Source: Herrick, Robert. Works of Robert Herrick. vol I. Alfred Pollard, ed. London, Lawrence & Bullen, 1891. 132-133.
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