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Henry King, Bishop of Chichester (Генри Кинг, епископ Чичестерский)


The Pink


Fair one, you did on me bestow
Comparisons too sweet to ow;
And but I found them sent from you
I durst not think they could be true.
But 'tis your uncontrolled power
Goddess-like to produce a flower,
And by your breath, without more seed,
Make that a Pink which was a Weed.
Because I would be loth to miss
So sweet a Metamorphosis,
Upon what stalk soere I grow
Disdain not you sometimes to blow
And cherish by your Virgin eye
What in your frown would droop and die:
So shall my thankful leaf repay
Perfumed wishes every day:
And o're your fortune breathe a spell
Which may his obligation tell,
Who though he nought but air can give
Must ever your (Sweet) creature live. 



Henry King, Bishop of Chichester's other poems:
  1. The Boyes Answer To The Blackmoor
  2. To the Queen at Oxford
  3. On Two Children Dying Of One Disease, And Buried In One Grave
  4. Upon A Table-Book Presented To A Lady
  5. To His Friends of Christ-Church upon the Mislike of the Marriage of the Arts Acted at Woodstock


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