Poetry Archives

A Lady of Cambridge lent Waller’s Poems to the Author, and
when he returned them to her, she discovered an additional
stanza written by him at the bottom of the song here copied.


  Go, lovely rose!
Tell her, that wastes her time on me,
  That now she knows,
When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be.

  Tell her that’s young,
And shuns to have her graces spied,
  That hadst thou sprung
In deserts, where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died.

  Small is the worth
Of beauty from the light retired,
  Bid her come forth,
Suffer herself to be desired,
And not blush so to be admired.

  Then die, that she
The common fate of all things rare
  May read in thee;
How small a part of time they share,
That are so wondrous sweet and fair.

  [Yet, though thou fade,
From thy dead leaves let fragrance rise;
  And teach the maid
That Goodness Time’s rude hand defies,
That Virtue lives when Beauty dies.
        H. K. WHITE.]