C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
To Primroses Filled with Morning Dew
By Robert Herrick (1591–1674)
W
Speak grief in you,
Who were but born
Just as the morn
Teemed her refreshing dew?
Alas! ye have not known that shower
That mars a flower;
Nor felt th’ unkind
Breath of the blasting wind;
Nor are ye worn with years;
Or warped, as we,
Who think it strange to see
Such pretty flowers, like unto orphans young,
Speaking by tears before ye have a tongue.
The reason why
Ye droop and weep.
Is it for want of sleep,
Or childish lullaby?
Or that ye have not seen as yet
The violet?
Or brought a kiss
From that sweetheart to this?
No, no; this sorrow, shown
By your tears shed,
Would have this lecture read:—
“That things of greatest, so of meanest worth,
Conceived with grief are, and with tears brought forth.”