Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/241

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��THOMAS CAMPION

178 Cherry-Rife

VHERE is a garden in her face Where roses and white lilies blow; A heavenly paradise is that place, Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow:

There cherries grow which none may buy Till 'Cherry-ripe' themselves do cry.

Those cherries fairly do enclose

Of orient pearls a double row, Which when her lovely laughter shows, They look like rose-buds fill'd with snow, Yet them nor peer nor prince can buy Till 'Cherry-ripe' themselves do cry.

Her eyes like angels watch them still;

Her brows like bended bows do stand, Threat'ning with piercing frowns to kill All that attempt with eye or hand Those sacred cherries to come nigh, Till 'Cherry-ripe' themselves do cry.

��/7P Laura

>OSE-CHEEK'D Laura, come;

Sing thou smoothly with thy beauty's Silent music, either other Sweetly gracing.

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