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Read more poems by George Herbert: George Herbert Poems at Poetry X.

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Virtue

George Herbert

Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
The bridal of the earth and sky,
The dew shall weep thy fall tonight;
For thou must die.

Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye,
Thy root is ever in its grave,
And thou must die.

Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie,
My music shows ye have your closes,
And all must die.

Only a sweet and virtuous soul,
Like seasoned timber, never gives;
But though the whole world turn to coal,
Then chiefly lives.

Added: 6 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 19 Jan 2018 12:37 AM | Viewed: 12001 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/7277/ | Viewed on 18 January 2018.
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