TO DAFFODILS
Fair Daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon:
As yet the early-rising Sun
Has not attained his noon.
Stay, stay,
Until the hasting day
Has run
But to the even-song;
And, having prayed together, we
Will go with you along.
We have short time to stay, as you,
We have as short a Spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay
As you, or any thing.
We die,
As your hours do, and dry
Away,
Like to the Summer’s rain,
Or as the pearls of morning’s dew,
Ne’er to be found again.
TO VIOLETS
Welcome, Maids of Honour!
You do bring
In the Spring,
And wait upon her.
She has Virgins many,
Fresh and fair;
Yet you are
More sweet than any.
Ye are the Maiden Posies,
And so graced
To be placed
’Fore damask roses.
But, though thus respected,
By and by
Ye do lie,
Poor girls, neglected.