Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes
Which starlike sparkle in their skies;
Nor be you proud that you can see
All hearts your captives, yours yet free;
Be you not proud of that rich hair
Which wantons with the love-sick air;
Whenas that ruby which you wear,
Sunk from the tip of your soft ear,
Will last to be a precious stone
When all your world of beauty's gone.
To Dianeme
Robert Herrick
(1)
Poem topics: I love you, beauty, hair, sick, world, sweet, precious, soft, stone, love, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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