Listen, bright lady, thy deep Pansie eyes
Made never answer when my eyes did pray,
Than with those quaintest looks of blank surprise.

But my lovelonging has devised a way
To mock thy living image, from thy hair
To thy rose toes; and keep thee by alway

My garden's face is oh! so maidly fair,
With limbs all tapering and with hues all fresh;
Thine are the beauties all that flourish there.

Amaranth, fadeless, tells me of thy flesh.
Briarrose knows thy cheek, the Pink thy pout
Bunched kisses dangle from the Woodbine mesh

I love to loll, when Daisy stars peep out,
And hear the music of my garden dell,
Hellyhock's laughter and the Sunflower's shout.

And many whisper things I dare not tell.