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Richard Lovelace - To Lucasta, the Rose
Work rating: Low

I.

Sweet serene skye-like flower, 
Haste to adorn her bower; 
From thy long clowdy bed 
Shoot forth thy damaske head.

II.

New-startled blush of Flora! 
The griefe of pale Aurora, 
Who will contest no more, 
Haste, haste, to strowe her floore.

III.

Vermilion ball, that`s given 
From lip to lip in Heaven; 
Loves couches cover-led, 
Haste, haste, to make her bed.

IV.

Dear offspring of pleas`d Venus, 
And jollie plumpe Silenus; 
Haste, haste, to decke the haire, 
Of th` only sweetly faire.

V.

See! rosie is her bower, 
Her floore is all this flower; 
Her bed a rosie nest 
By a bed of roses prest.

VI.

But early as she dresses, 
Why fly you her bright tresses? 
Ah! I have found, I feare; 
Because her cheekes are neere.
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