Rise, madam! rise, and give me light, Whom darkness still will cover, And ignorance, more dark than night, Till thou smile on thy lover. All want day till thy beauty rise, For the gray morn breaks from thine eyes. Nathaniel Field. JULIA. Some asked me where the rubies grew, And nothing did I say, But with my finger pointed to The lips of Julia. Some asked how pearls did grow, and where; Then spake I to my girl, To part her lips and show me there The quarelets of pearl. One asked me where the roses grew; I bade him not go seek, But forthwith bade my Julia show A bud in either cheek. Robert Herrick. CHERRY RIPE. "Cherry ripe, ripe, ripe," I cry, "Full and fair ones--come and buy;" If so be you ask me where They do grow? I answer, "There, Where my Julia's lips do smile;" There's the land, or cherry-isle, Whose plantations fully show All the year where cherries grow! Robert Herrick. TO THE VIRGINS. Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, The higher he's a-getting, The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting. That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry; For having lost but once your prime, You may for ever tarry. Robert Herrick. TO ELECTRA. I dare not ask a kiss; I dare not beg a smile; Lest having that or this, I might grow proud the while. No, no, the utmost share Of my desire shall be, Only to kiss that air That lately kissed thee. Robert Herrick. DRY THOSE EYES. Dry those fair, those crystal eyes, Which like growing fountains rise To drown their banks! Grief's sullen brooks Would better flow in furrow'd looks: Thy lovely face was never meant To be the shore of discontent. Then clear those waterish stars again, Which else portend a lasting rain; Lest the clouds which settle there Prolong my winter all the year, And thy example others make In love with sorrow, for thy sake. Dr. Henry King. LOVE'S CONSTANCY. Dear, if you change, I'll never choose again; Sweet, if you shrink, I'll never think of love; Fair, if you fail, I'll judge all beauty vain; Wise, if too weak, more wits I'll never prove. Dear, sweet, fair, wise,--change, shrink, nor be not weak; And, on my faith, my faith shall never break.