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Poem by Robert Herrick


A Conjuration to Electra


By those soft tods of wool
With which the air is full;
By all those tinctures there,
That paint the hemisphere;
By dews and drizzling rain
That swell the golden grain;
By all those sweets that be
I' the flowery nunnery;
By silent nights, and the
Three forms of Hecate;
By all aspects that bless
The sober sorceress,
While juice she strains, and pith
To make her philters with;
By time that hastens on
Things to perfection;
And by yourself, the best
Conjurement of the rest:
O my Electra! be
In love with none but me. 



Robert Herrick


Robert Herrick's other poems:
  1. To My Ill Reader
  2. Kisses Loathsome
  3. To Julia in the Temple
  4. The Bracelet to Julia
  5. To Dianeme (I could but see thee yesterday)


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