Oh, how much more beauty beauteous seem, By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odor which doth in it live. The canker blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the roses, Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly When summer's breath their masked buds discloses. But for their virtue only is their show They live unwooded and unrespected fade. Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so. Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odors made. And so of you, beauteous lovely youth, When that shall fade, by verse distills your truth.
Scrittori in Erba ~ Viewing Profile
