The Temple of Death, Art of Poetry, Duel of the Stags, etc (1695)/To a very Young Lady

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TO A

Very Young LADY.

By Sir George Etherege.

Sweetest Bud of Beauty, mayNo untimely Frost decayTh' early glories which we trace,Blooming in thy matchless Face;But kindly opening, like the Rose,Fresh Beauties every day disclose,Such as by Nature are not shewnIn all the Blossoms she has blown:And then what conquest shall you make,Who hearts already daily take;Scorcht in the Morning with thy beams,How shall we bear those sad extreamsWhich must attend thy threatning Eyes,When thou shalt to thy Noon arise.
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