| J. C. Squire, ed. A Book of Women’s Verse. 1921. | | | | Orinda to Lucasia | | By Katherine Philips (‘Orinda’) (1631–1664) |
| | | OBSERVE the weary birds ere night be done, | |
| How they would fain call up the tardy sun, | |
| With feathers hung with dew, | |
| And trembling voices too. | |
| They court their glorious planet to appear, | 5 |
| That they may find recruits of spirits there. | |
| The drooping flowers hang their heads, | |
| And languish down into their beds: | |
| While brooks more bold and fierce than they | |
| Wanting those beams, from whence | 10 |
| All things drink influence, | |
| Openly murmur and demand the day. | |
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| Thou my Lucasia are far more to me, | |
| Than he to all the under-world can be; | |
| From thee I’ve heat and light, | 15 |
| Thy absence makes my night. | |
| But ah! my friend, it now grows very long, | |
| The sadness weighty, and the darkness strong: | |
| My tears (its dew) dwell on my cheeks, | |
| And still my heart thy dawning seeks, | 20 |
| And to thee mournfully it cries, | |
| That if too long I wait, | |
| Ev’n thou may’st come too late, | |
| And not restore my life, but close my eyes. | | | | |
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