Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
William Habington. 16051654297. To Roses in the Bosom of Castara
YE blushing virgins happy are | |
In the chaste nunnery of her breasts— | |
For he’d profane so chaste a fair, | |
Whoe’er should call them Cupid’s nests. | |
Transplanted thus how bright ye grow! | 5 |
How rich a perfume do ye yield! | |
In some close garden cowslips so | |
Are sweeter than i’ th’ open field. | |
In those white cloisters live secure | |
From the rude blasts of wanton breath!— | 10 |
Each hour more innocent and pure, | |
Till you shall wither into death. | |
Then that which living gave you room, | |
Your glorious sepulchre shall be. | |
There wants no marble for a tomb | 15 |
Whose breast hath marble been to me. |