Frank J. Wilstach, comp. A Dictionary of Similes. 1916.
Virgin
Virgins are like the fair flow’r in its lustre,
Which in the garden enamels the ground,
Near it the bees in play flutter and cluster,
And gaudy butterflies frolic around.
But when once plucked ’tis no longer alluring,
To Convent-garden ’tis sent (as yet sweet),
There fades and shrinks, and grows past all enduring,
Rots, stinks, and dies and is trod under feet.
—John Gay