 | Here be blue and white violets from the garden wherein grew meadowsweet |  |
STREPHON TO CHLORIS.
Chloris, unbend that gathered brow!
'Twas but a straying touch or twain
That followed on this slope of snow
The azure runnel of a vein!
Come, sweet, be neither saint nor shrew—
The heart behind the hand was true.
'Twas but a straying touch or twain
That followed on this slope of snow
The azure runnel of a vein!
Come, sweet, be neither saint nor shrew—
The heart behind the hand was true.
Now had I stormed thy garter-knot
I would not christen thee unkind!
But nought of pure hath been forgot,
So kiss me, dear, and change thy mind.
Be nun-like now—I care no groat
So I am shepherd for thy throat!
I would not christen thee unkind!
But nought of pure hath been forgot,
So kiss me, dear, and change thy mind.
Be nun-like now—I care no groat
So I am shepherd for thy throat!
| Here be blue and white violets from the garden wherein grew meadowsweet | |