Her lips were red, and one was thin,
Compared with that was next her chin,
Some bee had stung it newly.
Song.
Why so pale and wan, fond lover,
Prithee, why so pale?
Will, when looking well can't move her,
Looking ill prevail?
Prithee, why so pale?
ROBERT HERRICK.
1591-1660.
The Rock of Rubies, and the Quarrie of Pearls.
Some asked me where the Rubies grew,
And nothing I did say;
But with my finger pointed to
The lips of Julia.
Some asked how Pearls did grow, and where?
Then spoke I to my Girl,
To part her lips, and showed them there
The quarelets of Pearl.