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More poems by Thomas CarewThomas Carew | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Thomas CarewBooks by Thomas Carew

The Primrose

Thomas Carew

Ask me why I send you here
The firstling of the infant year;
Ask me why I send to you
This primrose all bepearled with dew:
I straight will whisper in your ears,
The sweets of love are washed with tears.
Ask me why this flower doth show
So yellow, green, and sickly too;
Ask me why the stalk is weak
And bending, yet it doth not break:
I must tell you, these discover
What doubts and fears are in a lover.

Added: 12 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 23 Oct 2018 7:52 AM | Viewed: 4225 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/5968/ | Viewed on 23 October 2018.
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