When I consider, dearest, thou dost stay
But here awhile, to languish and decay;
Like to these garden glories, which here be
The flowery-sweet resemblances of thee:
With grief of heart, methinks, I thus do cry,
Would thou hadst ne'er been born, or might'st not die!
More verses by Robert Herrick
- To Be Merry
- The Dirge Of Jephthah's Daughter:Sung By The Virgins
- His Prayer For Absolution
- His Desire
- The Old Wives' Prayer