A Selection from the Lyrical Poems of Robert Herrick






92. CHERRY RIPE

     Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry,
     Full and fair ones; come, and buy:
     If so be you ask me where
     They do grow?  I  answer, there
     Where my Julia's lips do smile;—
     There's the land, or cherry-isle;
     Whose plantations fully show
     All the year where cherries grow.

All books are sourced from Project Gutenberg