A Selection from the Lyrical Poems of Robert Herrick






192. TO PANSIES

     Ah, Cruel Love!  must I endure
     Thy many scorns, and find no cure?
     Say, are thy medicines made to be
     Helps to all others but to me?
     I'll leave thee, and to Pansies come:
     Comforts you'll afford me some:
     You can ease my heart, and do
     What Love could ne'er be brought unto.

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