4 Then be not coy, but use your time, CHERRY-RIPE. Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry; THE KISS: A DIALOGUE. 1. Among thy fancies, tell me this: What is the thing we call a kiss?— 2. I shall resolve ye what it is: It is a creature, born and bred Between the lips, all cherry red; By love and warm desires 'tis fed; Chor.-And makes more soft the bridal bed: 2. It is an active flame, that flies First to the babies of the eyes, And charms them there with lullabies; Chor. And stills the bride too when she cries: 2. Then to the chin, the cheek, the ear, It frisks and flies; now here, now there; 'Tis now far off, and then 'tis near; Chor.-And here, and there, and everywhere. 1. Has it a speaking virtue ?-2. Yes. 1. How speaks it, say ?-2. Do you but this, Part your join'd lips, then speaks your kiss; Chor. And this love's sweetest language is. 1. Has it a body ?-2. Aye, and wings, TO DAFFODILS. 1 Fair daffodils, we weep to see As yet the early-rising sun Until the hast'ning day Has run But to the even-song; And, having pray'd together, we 2 We have short time to stay, as you; As quick a growth to meet decay, TO PRIMROSES. 1 Why do ye weep, sweet babes? Can tears Speak grief in you, Who are but born Just as the modest morn Teem'd her refreshing dew? Alas! you have not known that shower Nor felt the unkind Breath of a blasting wind; Who think it strange to see Such pretty flowers, like to orphans young, 2 Speak, whimpering younglings; and make known The reason why Ye droop and weep. Is it for want of sleep, Or childish lullaby? Or that ye have not seen as yet Or brought a kiss From that sweetheart to this? No, no; this sorrow shown Would have this lecture read, 'That things of greatest, so of meanest worth, Conceived with grief are, and with tears brought forth.' TO BLOSSOMS. 1 Fair pledges of a fruitful tree, Your date is not so past, 2 What, were ye born to be 3 But you are lovely leaves, where we Their end, though ne'er so brave: OBERON'S PALACE. Thus to a grove Sometimes devoted unto love, Many a turn, and many a cross Tract, they redeem a bank of moss, Mildly disparkling like those fires All with temptation doth bewitch. Squirrels' and children's teeth, late shed, With brownest toadstones, and the gum Wise hand enchasing here those warts |