A Selection from the Lyrical Poems of Robert Herrick






14. TO HIS BOOK

     If hap it must, that I must see thee lie
     Absyrtus-like, all torn confusedly;
     With solemn tears, and with much grief of heart,
     I'll recollect thee, weeping, part by part;
     And having wash'd thee, close thee in a chest
     With spice; that done, I'll leave thee to thy rest.

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