Upon His Kinswoman, Mistress Bridget Herrick.

A poem by Robert Herrick

Sweet Bridget blush'd, and therewithal
Fresh blossoms from her cheeks did fall.
I thought at first 'twas but a dream,
Till after I had handled them
And smelt them, then they smelt to me
As blossoms of the almond tree.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Upon His Kinswoman, Mistress Bridget Herrick.' by Robert Herrick

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy