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    George Herbert - Virtue - Emma Fielding


    by poetictouch

    Emma Fielding reads George Herbert's Virtue

    by George Herbert (1593-1633)

    Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
    The bridal of the earth and sky;
    The dew shall weep thy fall to-night,
    For thou must die.

    Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave
    Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye;
    Thy root is ever in its grave,
    And thou must die.

    Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,
    A box where sweets compacted lie;
    My music shows ye have your closes,
    And all must die.

    Only a sweet and virtuous soul,
    Like season'd timber, never gives;
    But though the whole world turn to coal,
    Then chiefly lives.