Home ⇒ 📌Thomas Carew ⇒ The Primrose
The Primrose
Ask me why I send you here
The firstling of the infant year;
Ask me why I send to you
This primrose all bepearled with dew:
I straight will whisper in your ears,
The sweets of love are washed with tears.
Ask me why this flower doth show
So yellow, green, and sickly too;
Ask me why the stalk is weak
And bending, yet it doth not break:
I must tell you, these discover
What doubts and fears are in a lover.
(2 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- 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 Primrose Upon this Primrose hill, Where, if Heav’n would distil A shower of rain, each several drop might go To his own primrose, and grow manna so; And where their form and their infinity Make a terrestrial Galaxy, As the small stars do in the sky: I walk to find a true Love; and I see […]...
- Among the Multitude AMONG the men and women, the multitude, I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine signs, Acknowledging none else-not parent, wife, husband, brother, child, any nearer than I am; Some are baffled-But that one is not-that one knows me. Ah, lover and perfect equal! I meant that you should discover me so, by […]...
- Primrose Upon a bank I sat, a child made seer Of one small primrose flowering in my mind. Better than wealth it is, I said, to find One small page of Truth’s manuscript made clear. I looked at Christ transfigured without fear The light was very beautiful and kind, And where the Holy Ghost in flame […]...
- To A Primrose The first seen in the season Nitens et roboris expers Turget et insolida est: et spe delectat. – Ovid, Metam. [xv.203]. Thy smiles I note, sweet early Flower, That peeping from thy rustic bower The festive news to earth dost bring, A fragrant messenger of Spring. But, tender blossom, why so pale? Dost hear stern […]...
- The Evening Primrose You know the bloom, unearthly white, That none has seen by morning light- The tender moon, alone, may bare Its beauty to the secret air. Who’d venture past its dark retreat Must kneel, for holy things and sweet, That blossom, mystically blown, No man may gather for his own Nor touch it, lest it droop […]...
- Evening Primrose When once the sun sinks in the west, And dewdrops pearl the evening’s breast; Almost as pale as moonbeams are, Or its companionable star, The evening primrose opes anew Its delicate blossoms to the dew; And, hermit-like, shunning the light, Wastes its fair bloom upon the night, Who, blindfold to its fond caresses, Knows not […]...
- The Hermit WHAT moves that lonely man is not the boom Of waves that break agains the cliff so strong; Nor roar of thunder, when that travelling voice Is caught by rocks that carry far along. ‘Tis not the groan of oak tree i its prime, When lightning strikes its solid heart to dust; Nor frozen pond […]...
- John Donne – The Paradox No Lover saith, I love, nor any other Can judge a perfect Lover; Hee thinkes that else none can, nor will agree That any loves but hee; I cannot say I’lov’d. for who can say Hee was kill’d yesterday? Lover withh excesse of heat, more yong than old, Death kills with too much cold; Wee […]...
- Psalm 3 Doubts and fears suppressed. My God, how many are my fears! How fast my foes increase! Conspiring my eternal death, They break my present peace. The lying tempter would persuade There’s no relief in heav’n; And all my swelling sins appear Too big to be forgiv’n. But thou, my glory and my strength, Shalt on […]...
- The Furious Gun The furious gun in his raging ire, When that the bowl is rammed in too sore And that the flame cannot part from the fire, Cracketh in sunder, and in the air doth roar The shivered pieces; right so doth my desire, Whose flame increaseth from more to more, Which to let out I dare […]...
- The Conspiracy You send me your poems, I’ll send you mine. Things tend to awaken Even through random communication Let us suddenly Proclaim spring. And jeer At the others, All the others. I will send a picture too If you will send me one of you....
- THE CHANGES: TO CORINNA Be not proud, but now incline Your soft ear to discipline; You have changes in your life, Sometimes peace, and sometimes strife; You have ebbs of face and flows, As your health or comes or goes; You have hopes, and doubts, and fears, Numberless as are your hairs; You have pulses that do beat High, […]...
- Song: Eternity of Love Protested How ill doth he deserve a lover’s name, Whose pale weak flame Cannot retain His heat, in spite of absence or disdain; But doth at once, like paper set on fire, Burn and expire; True love can never change his seat, Nor did her ever love, that could retreat. That noble flame which my breast […]...
- The Silent Lover i PASSIONS are liken’d best to floods and streams: The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb; So, when affection yields discourse, it seems The bottom is but shallow whence they come. They that are rich in words, in words discover That they are poor in that which makes a lover....
- This Night This night, as I sit here alone, And brood on what is dead and gone, The owl that’s in this Highgate Wood, Has found his fellow in my mood; To every star, as it doth rise – Oh-o-o! Oh-o-o! he shivering cries. And, looking at the Moon this night, There’s that dark shadow in her […]...
- Sonnet XXXVIII: Oh Sigh Oh Sigh! thou steal’st, the herald of the breast, The lover’s fears, the lover’s pangs to tell; Thou bid’st with timid grace the bosom swell, Cheating the day of joy, the night of rest! Oh! lucid Tears! with eloquence confest, Why on my fading cheek unheeded dwell, Meek, as the dew-drops on the flowret’s bell […]...
- Sestina I wandered o’er the vast green plains of youth, And searched for Pleasure. On a distant height Fame’s silhouette stood sharp against the skies. Beyond vast crowds that thronged a broad highway I caught the glimmer of a golden goal, While from a blooming bower smiled siren Love. Straight gazing in her eyes, I laughed […]...
- Out upon it, I have lov'd Out upon it, I have lov’d Three whole days together; And am like to love three more, If it prove fair weather. Time shall moult away his wings, Ere he shall discover In the whole wide world again Such a constant lover. But the spite on’t is, no praise Is due at all to me; […]...
- The Constant Lover Out upon it, I have lov’d Three whole days together; And am like to love three more, If it prove fair weather. Time shall molt away his wings Ere he shall discover In such whole wide world again Such a constant lover. But the spite on’t is, no praise Is due at all to me: […]...
- In the Old Age of the Soul I do not choose to dream; there cometh on me Some strange old lust for deeds. As to the nerveless hand of some old warrior The sword-hilt or the war-worn wonted helmet Brings momentary life and long-fled cunning, So to my soul grown old – Grown old with many a jousting, many a foray, Grown […]...
- Boldness in Love Mark how the bashful morn in vain Courts the amorous marigold, With sighing blasts and weeping rain, Yet she refuses to unfold. But when the planet of the day Approacheth with his powerful ray, The she spreads, then she receives His warmer beams into her virgin leaves. So shalt thou thrive in love, fond boy; […]...
- The Drunkard from St. Ambrose He fears the tiger standing in his way. The tiger takes its time, it smiles and growls. Like moons, the two blank eyes tug at his bowels. “God help me now,” is all that he can say. “God help me now, how close I’ve come to God. To love and to be […]...
- A Birthday Song. To S. G For ever wave, for ever float and shine Before my yearning eyes, oh! dream of mine Wherein I dreamed that time was like a vine, A creeping rose, that clomb a height of dread Out of the sea of Birth, all filled with dead, Up to the brilliant cloud of Death o’erhead. This vine bore […]...
- The Holidays “Ah! don’t you remember, ’tis almost December, And soon will the holidays come; Oh, ’twill be so funny, I’ve plenty of money, I’ll buy me a sword and a drum. ” Thus said little Harry, unwilling to tarry, Impatient from school to depart; But we shall discover, this holiday lover Knew little what was in […]...
- Here Follow Several Occasional Meditations By night when others soundly slept, And had at once both case and rest, My waking eyes were open kept And so to lie I found it best. I sought Him whom my soul did love, With tears I sought Him earnestly; He bowed His ear down from above. In vain I did not seek […]...
- Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
- By Night when Others Soundly Slept . By night when others soundly slept And hath at once both ease and Rest, My waking eyes were open kept And so to lie I found it best. . I sought him whom my Soul did Love, With tears I sought him earnestly. He bow’d his ear down from Above. In vain I did […]...
- The Divine Lullaby I hear Thy voice, dear Lord; I hear it by the stormy sea When winter nights are black and wild, And when, affright, I call to Thee; It calms my fears and whispers me, “Sleep well, my child.” I hear Thy voice, dear Lord, In singing winds, in falling snow, The curfew chimes, the midnight […]...
- 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
- Tцrnfallet There is a meadow in Sweden Where I lie smitten, Eyes stained with clouds’ White ins and outs. And about that meadow Roams my widow Plaiting a clover Wreath for her lover. I took her in marriage In a granite parish. The snow lent her whiteness, A pine was a witness. She’d swim in the […]...
- Three Songs LOVE, thou art best of Human Joys, Our chiefest Happiness below; All other Pleasures are but Toys, Musick without Thee is but Noise, And Beauty but an empty Show. Heav’n, who knew best what Man wou’d move, And raise his Thoughts above the Brute; Said, Let him Be, and let him Love; That must alone […]...
- Break, Break, Break Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O, well for the fisherman’s boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O, well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the […]...
- On A Gentlewoman's Blistred Lipp Hide not that sprouting lipp, nor kill The juicy bloome with bashfull skill: Know it is an amorous dewe That swells to court thy corall hewe, And what a blemish you esteeme To other eyes a pearle may seeme Whose watery growth is not above The thrifty seize that pearles doe love, And doth so […]...
- Love is enough LOVE is enough: though the World be a-waning, And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining, Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder, Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder, And this day draw a veil […]...
- Song I: Though the World Be A-Waning Love is enough: though the World be a-waning And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining, Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder, Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder, And this day draw a veil […]...
- Another (II) As loving hind that (hartless) wants her deer, Scuds through the woods and fern with hark’ning ear, Perplext, in every bush and nook doth pry, Her dearest deer, might answer ear or eye; So doth my anxious soul, which now doth miss A dearer dear (far dearer heart) than this. Still wait with doubts, and […]...
- Horace to phyllis Come, Phyllis, I’ve a cask of wine That fairly reeks with precious juices, And in your tresses you shall twine The loveliest flowers this vale produces. My cottage wears a gracious smile, The altar, decked in floral glory, Yearns for the lamb which bleats the while As though it pined for honors gory. Hither our […]...
- Eros Turannos She fears him, and will always ask What fated her to choose him; She meets in his engaging mask All reason to refuse him. But what she meets and what she fears Are less than are the downward years, Drawn slowly to the foamless weirs Of age, were she to lose him. Between a blurred […]...
- Fool Faith Said I: “See yon vast heaven shine, What earthly sight diviner? Before such radiant Design Why doubt Designer?” Said he: “Design is just a thought In human cerebration, And meaningless if Man is not Part of creation. “But grant Design, we may imply The job took toil aplenty; Then why one sole designer, why Not […]...