Ye may simper, blush, and smile, And perfume the aire a while: But (sweet things) ye must be gone; Fruit, ye know, is comming on: Then, Ah! Then, where is your grace, When as Cherries come in place? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THREE SILENCES IN THAILAND by KAREN SWENSON ESTONIAN BRIDAL SONG by JOHANN GOTTFRIED VON HERDER THE BROOKSIDE by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES TO HELEN (1) by EDGAR ALLAN POE LET ME FORGET by OMA CARLYLE ANDERSON IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: MITIGATIONS by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |