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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE GREEN-SICKNESS BEAUTY (1) by EDWARD HERBERT

First Line: THOUGH THE PALE WHITE WITHIN YOUR CHEEKS COMPOS'D
Last Line: AND TO BE GATHER'D RATHER THAN TO FALL.
THOUGH the pale white within your cheeks compos'd,
And doubtful light unto your eye confin'd,
Though your short breath not from itself unloos'd,
And careless motions of your equal mind,
Argue your beauties are not all disclos'd;

Yet as a rising beam, when first 'tis shown,
Points fairer than when it ascends more red,
Or as a budding rose, when first 'tis blown,
Smells sweeter far than when it is more spread;
As all things best by principles are known;

So in your green and flourishing estate
A beauty is discern'd, more worthy love
Than that which further doth itself dilate,
And those degrees of variation prove,
Our vulgar wits so much do celebrate.

Thus, though your eyes dart not that piercing blaze
Which doth in busy lovers' looks appear,
It is because you do not need to gaze
On other object than your proper sphere,
Nor wander further than to run that maze.

So, if you want that blood which must succeed,
And give at last a tincture to your skin,
It is because neither in outward deed
Nor inward thought you yet admit that sin
For which your cheeks a guilty blush should need.

So, if your breath do not so freely flow,
It is because you love not to consume
That vital treasure which you do bestow,
As well to vegetate as to perfume
Your virgin leaves, as fast as they do grow.

Yet stay not here, love for his right will call,
You were not born to serve your only will;
Nor can your beauty be perpetual:
'Tis your perfection for to ripen still,
And to be gather'd rather than to fall.



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