English poem
To The Queen.
Goddess of youth, and lady of the spring, Most fit to be the consort to a king, Be pleas'd to rest you in this sacred grove Beset with myrtles, whose each leaf drops love. Many a sweet-fac'd wood-nymph here is seen, Of which chaste order you are now the queen: Witness their homage when they come and strew Your walks with flowers, and give their crowns to you. Your leafy throne, with lily-work possess, And be both princess here and poetess.
More by Robert Herrick
- To The Nightingale And Robin Redbreast.
- To The Painter, To Draw Him A Picture.
- To The Passenger.
- To The Patron Of Poets, M. End. Porter.
- To The Reverend Shade Of His Religious Father.
- To The Right Gracious Prince, Lodowick, Duke Of Richmond And Lennox.
- To The Right Honourable Edward, Earl Of Dorset.
- To The Right Honourable Mildmay, Earl Of Westmoreland.