SWEET, serene, sky-like flower, Haste to adorn her bower: From thy long cloudy bed Shoot forth thy damask head. New-startled blush of Flora! The grief of pale Aurora, Who will contest no more, Haste, haste, to strow her floor. Vermilion ball that's given From lip to lip in heaven; Love's couch's coverled, Haste, haste, to make her bed. Dear offspring of pleas'd Venus And jolly plump Silenus, Haste, haste, to deck the hair Of th' only sweetly fair. See! rosy is her bower, Her floor is all this flower, Her bed a rosy nest By a bed of roses press'd. But early as she dresses, Why fly you her bright tresses? Ah! I have found I fear: Because her cheeks are near. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BURIED LIFE by MATTHEW ARNOLD KINDNESS TO ANIMALS by JOSEPH ASHBY-STERRY STANZAS TO AN AFFECTIONATE AND PIOUS PARENT, ON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD by BERNARD BARTON THE FRATERNAL DUEL by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS PSALM 52 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE PRINCE OF PEACE by EDWARD HENRY BICKERSTETH |