Poem by Robert Herrick

To Dianeme (Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes)

Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes,
Which, star-like, sparkle in their skies;
Nor be you proud, that you can see
All hearts your captives, yours, yet free;
Be you not proud of that rich hair
Which wantons with the love-sick air;
Whenas that ruby which you wear,
Sunk from the tip of your soft ear,
Will last to be a precious stone,
When all your world of beauty's gone.

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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