WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

��747. Bridal Song

ROSES, their sharp spines being gone, Not royal in their smells alone, But in their hue ; Maiden pinks, of odour faint, Daisies smell-less, ^yet most quaint, And sweet thyme true ;

Primrose, firstborn child of Ver; Merry springtime's harbinger,

With her bells dim ; Oxlips in their cradles growing, Marigolds on death-beds blowing,

Larks'-heels trim ;

All dear Nature's children sweet Lie 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet,

Blessing their sense ! Not an angel of the air, Bird melodious or bird fair,

Be absent hence !

The crow, the slanderous cuckoo, nor The boding raven, nor chough hoar,

Nor chattering pye,

May on our bride-house perch or sing, Or with them any discord bring,

But from it fly!

? or John Fletcher.

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