Poetry Archives

Now the lusty spring is seen;
Golden hellow, gaudy blue,
Daintily invite the view.
Everywhere on every green,
Roses blushing as they blow,
And enticing men to pull,
Lilies whiter than the snow,
Woodbines of sweet honey full:
    All love’s emblems, and all cry,
    “Ladies, if not plucked, we die.”

Yet the lusty spring hath stayed;
Blushing red and purest white
Daintily to love invite
Every woman, every maid.
Cherries kissing as they grow,
And inviting men to taste,
Apples even ripe below,
Winding gently to the waist:
    All love’s emblems, and all cry,
    “Ladies, if not plucked, we die.”