To The Rose.

1. Go, happy rose, and interwove
With other flowers, bind my love.

Tell her, too, she must not be

Longer flowing, longer free,

That so oft has fetter'd me.

2. Say, if she's fretful, I have bands
Of pearl and gold to bind her hand

Tell her, if she struggle still,

I have myrtle rods (at will)

For to tame, though not to kill.

3. Take thou my blessing thus, and go
And tell her this, but do not so,

Lest a handsome anger fly

Like a lightning from her eye,
And burn thee up as well as I.

To The Rose. Song.
Robert Herrick

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