Go lovely Rose!
Tell her that wastes her time and me
That now she knows,
When I resemble her to thee
How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Tell her thats young
And loves to have her graces spied,
That hadst thou sprung,
In desarts where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died.10
Small is the worth
Of beauty from the light retired:
Bid her come forth,
Suffer herself to be desired
And not blush so to be admired.
Then die! that she
The common fate of all things rare
May read in thee,
How small a part of time they share
That are so wondrous sweet and fair.20