Wednesday, 16 September 2009

robert herrick

To a Bed of Tulips

Bright tulips, we do know,
You had your comming hither;
And fading-time do's show,
That Ye must quickly wither.

Your Sister-hoods may stay,
And smile here for your houre,
But dye ye mst away:
Even as the meanest Flower.

Come Virgins then, and see
Your frailties; and bemone ye;
For lost like these, 'twill be,
As Time had never known ye.


Roxana said...

this is perfect for my post, indeed :-) a thousand thanks to you... i had no idea before you started making the "flower death poems" series that so much was written about dying tulips.

you do love them as well, don't you? :-)

swiss said...

sadly all my tulips are long past. these days i'm preferring my gladioli which are making a last stand against the depredations of the impending autumn

you do need to change flowers tho - am running out of tulip poems!

Roxana said...


no luck there, i've got tons of them still to come, remember the flower festival in Germany? it was mainly tulips!

swiss said...

oh, you europeans with your climate! lol