- There is a Garden in Her Face
- Thomas Campion
- Exported from Wikisource on 02/16/20
- There is a garden in her face
- Where roses and white lilies grow;
- A heav'nly paradise is that place
- Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow.
- There cherries grow which none may buy
- Till "Cherry-ripe" themselves do cry.
- Those cherries fairly do enclose
- Of orient pearl a double row,
- Which when her lovely laughter shows,
- They look like rose-buds filled with snow;
- Yet them nor peer nor prince can buy,
- Till "Cherry-ripe" themselves do cry.
- Her eyes like angels watch them still;
- Her brows like bended bows do stand,
- Threat'ning with piercing frowns to kill
- All that attempt, with eye or hand
- Those sacred cherries to come nigh
- Till "Cherry-ripe" themselves do cry.
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