Before man's fall the rose was born,St. Ambrose says, without the thorn;But for man's fault then was the thornWithout the fragrant rose-bud born; But ne'er the rose without the thorn.
Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, Old Time is still a flying: And this same flower that smiles to day, Tomorrow will be dying.
Roses at first were white, Till thy co'd not agree, Whether my Sapho's breast, Or they more white sho'd be.
Gather ye rosebuds, while ye may...
But ne'er the rose without the thorn.
Then be not coy, but use your time; And while ye may, go marry: For having lost but once your prime, You may for ever tarry.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun.
Upon the Nipples of Julia's Breast: Have ye beheld (with much delight) A red rose peeping through a white? Or else a cherry (double graced) Within a lily? Center placed? Or ever marked the pretty beam A strawberry shows half drowned in cream?