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Poem by William Drummond

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Like the Idalian queen,
Her hair about her eyne,
With neck and breasts ripe apples to be seen,
At first glance of the morn
In Cyprus gardens gathering those fair flowers
Which of her blood were born,
I saw, but fainting saw, my paramours.
The Graces naked danced about the place,
The winds and trees amazed
With silence on her gazed,
The flowers did smile, like those upon her face;
And as their aspen stalks those fingers band,
That she might read my case,
A hyacinth I wished me in her hand. 

William Drummond

William Drummond's other poems:
  1. Kisses Desired
  2. Summons to Love
  3. How That Vast Heaven Intitled First Is Roll'd
  4. Dear Eye, Which Deign'st on This Sad Monument
  5. Now While the Night Her Sable Veil Hath Spread

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