Classic Poem

WRITTEN IN THE DISSOLVING OF A SNOW .

Say , why on your hair yet stays
That snow resembling white;
Since the sun's less powerful rays
Thaw'd that which fell last night?

Sure to hinder those extremes
Of love they might bestow;
Art hath hid your golden beams
Within a fleece of snow.

Yet as on a cloth of gold,
With silver flowers wrought o'er,
We do now and then behold
A radiant wire or more:

So sometimes the amorous air
Doth with your fair locks play,
And unclouds a golden hair;
And then breaks forth the day.

On your cheeks the rosy morn
We plainly then descry;
And a thousand Cupids born,
And playing in each eye.

Now we all are at a stay,
And know not where to turn us;

If we wish that snow away,
Those glorious beams would burn us.

If it should not fall amain,
And cloud your loveful eyes,
Each gentle heart would soon be slain,
And made their sacrifice.