CHERRY-RIPE, ripe, ripe, I cry, Full and fair ones; come and buy. If so be you ask me where They do grow, I answer: There Where my Julia's lips do smile; There 's the land, or cherry-isle, Whose plantations fully show All the year where cherries grow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COMPARISON OF LOVE TO A STREAM FALLING FROM THE ALPS by THOMAS WYATT CHRIST TO HIS SPOUSE by WILLIAM BALDWIN TO MADEMOISELLE by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER GIACINTA by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT KENTUCKY BABE by RICHARD HENRY BUCK ON THE DEATH OF A MOTHER by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON OUR FATHER'S CARE by IVA TEMPLE CARTWRIGHT |