Page:Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics.djvu/92

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CHERRY-RIPE

There is a garden in her face Where roses and white lilies blow; A heavenly paradise is that place, Wherein all pleasant fruits do grow; There cherries grow that none may buy, Till Cherry-Ripe themselves do cry.
Those cherries fairly do encloseOf orient pearl a double row,Which when her lovely laughter shows, They look like rose-buds fill’d with snow Yet them no peer nor prince may 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 approach with eye or hand These sacred cherries to come nigh, —Till Cherry-Ripe themselves do cry! Anon.


xcii

THE POETRY OF DRESS

1

A sweet disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness:— A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction,— An erring lace, which here and there Enthrals the crimson stomacher,— A cuff neglectful, and therebyRibbands to flow confusedly,— A winning wave, deserving note, In the tempestuous petticoat,—
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