The Swaffham Crier Online

Cherry-over-Ripe?

There was a garden in her face,

Where roses and white lilies grew.

A heavenly paradise was that place,

Until there came a fashion new.

Now what I see is metal ware;

Such ornaments I cannot bear.

And cherries fairly did enclose

Of Orient pearls a double row,

But now, when her lovely laughter shows,

I see a place where 'diamonds' grow.

Yet all these things she had to buy;

I cannot help but wonder why.

Her eyes like angels watch me still;

Her brows with dumbbells proud do stand,

Threatening with piercéd frowns, to kill

All my attempts with eye or hand

The sacred cherries to come nigh;

Enough to make me want to cry.

Ophir.

Thanks to THOMAS CAMPION 1567-1620, who would be as bewildered as I am.