Poem by Robert Herrick

To Silvia to Wed

Let us, though late, at last, my Silvia, wed;
And loving lie in one devoted bed.
Thy watch may stand, my minutes fly post haste;
No sound calls back the year that once is past.
Then, sweetest Silvia, let's no longer stay;
True love, we know, precipitates delay.
Away with doubts, all scruples hence remove!
No man, at one time, can be wise, and love.

1. To the Rose
2. The Funeral Rites of the Rose
3. The Shower of Blossoms
4. To the Soure Reader
5. When He Would Have His Verses Read

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