A Selection from the Lyrical Poems of Robert Herrick

186. TO BLOSSOMS

     Fair pledges of a fruitful tree,
     Why do ye fall so fast?
     Your date is not so past,
     But you may stay yet here a-while,
     To blush and gently smile;
     And go at last.

     What, were ye born to be
     An hour or half's delight;
     And so to bid good-night?
     'Twas pity Nature brought ye forth,
     Merely to show your worth,
     And lose you quite.

     But you are lovely leaves, where we
     May read how soon things have
     Their end, though ne'er so brave:
     And after they have shown their pride,
     Like you, a-while;—they glide
     Into the grave.