Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. II. The Seventeenth Century: Ben Jonson to Dryden
Thomas Carew (1595?–1639?)Song: ‘Ask me no more where Jove bestows’
A
When June is past, the fading rose,
For in your beauty’s orient deep
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep.
The golden atoms of the day,
For, in pure love, heaven did prepare
Those powders to enrich your hair.
The nightingale when May is past,
For in your sweet dividing throat
She winters and keeps warm her note.
That downwards fall in dead of night,
For in your eyes they sit, and there
Fixëd become as in their sphere.
The Phœnix builds her spicy nest,
For unto you at last she flies,
And in your fragrant bosom dies.