My soul would one day go and seek
For roses, and in Julia's cheek
A richesse of those sweets she found,
As in another Rosamond.
But gathering roses as she was,
Not knowing what would come to pass,
It chanc'd a ringlet of her hair
Caught my poor soul, as in a snare:
Which ever since has been in thrall;
Yet freedom, she enjoys withal.
How His Soul Came Ensnared
Robert Herrick
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Poem topics: freedom, hair, poor, Valentine's Day, soul, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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