194 Why Flowers Change Colour
These fresh beauties, we can prove,
Once were virgins, sick of love,
Turn’d to flowers: still in some,
Colours go and colours come.
195 The Primrose
Ask me why I send you here
This sweet Infanta of the year?
Ask me why I send to you
This Primrose, thus bepearl’d with dew?
I will whisper to your ears,—
The sweets of love are mixt with tears.
Ask me why this flower does show
So yellow-green, and sickly too?
Ask me why the stalk is weak
And bending, yet it doth not break?
I will answer,—these discover
What fainting hopes are in a lover.