Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/307

 ROBERT HERRICK

257 To the Western Wind

SWEET western wind, whose luck it is, Made rival with the air, To give Perenna's lip a kiss, And fan her wanton hair:

Bring me but one, I'll promise thee, Instead of common showers,

Thy wings shall be embalm'd by me, And all beset with flowers.

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��255 To Electra

I dare not beg a smile, Lest having that, or this,
 * DARE not ask a kiss,

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.

259 To Violets

WELCOME, maids of honour! You do bring In the spring, And wait upon her.

She has virgins many,

Fresh and fair;

Yet you are More sweet than any.

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