There Is A Garden In Her Face
2013-10-24 Thu 20:17
Nowadays I became so interested in poetry. To tell the truth, I don't really like poetry since it's hard to understand. However, since I read two books (which are about 1500+ pages each) about English poetry, I began to like it. The poetry that I like is the one from the old literature, I mean before year 2000. The recent poetry has lost its beautiful rhymes and diction I think. Well, idk but certainly I love the middle ages poetry! :D
So, here is a poetry by Thomas Campion. This is a beautiful poem from him. Please read. ^^


There is a Garden in her face,
Where Roses and white Lillies grow ;
A heau'nly paradice is that place,
Wherein all pleasant fruits doe flow.
There Cherries grow, which none may buy
Till Cherry ripe themselues doe cry.

Those Cherries fayrely doe enclose
Of Orient Pearle a double row ;
Which when her louely laughter showes,
They look like Rose-buds fill'd with snow.
Yet them nor Peere nor Prince can buy,
Till Cherry ripe themselues doe cry.

Her Eyes like Angels watch them still ;
Her Browes like bended bowes doe stand,
Threatning with piercing frownes to kill
All that attempt with eye or hand
Those sacred Cherries to come nigh,
Till Cherry ripe themselues doe cry.

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