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Poems

By Thomas Carew

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The Enquiry.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


170

The Enquiry.

Amongst the myrtles as I walk't,
Love and my sighes thus intertalk't,
Tell me (said I in deepe distresse)
Where may I find my shepheardesse?
Thou foole (said love) knowst thou not this
In every thing that's good shee is;
In yonder tulip goe and seeke,
There thou maist find her lip, her cheeke.
In you ennammel'd pausie by,
There thou shalt have her curious eye;
In bloome of peach, in rosie bud,
There wave the streamers of her blood,
In brightest lillies that there stands,
The emblems of her whiter hands.
In yonder rising hill there smells
Such sweets as in her bosome dwells.
'Tis true (said I) and thereupon
I went to plucke them one by one

171

To make of parts a vnion
But on a suddaine all was gone.
With that I stopt said love these be,
(Fond man) resemblances of thee,
And as these flowres, thy joyes shall die
Even in the twinkling of an eye.
And all thy hopes of her shall wither,
Like these short sweets, thus knit together.