I heard ye could cool heat, and came
With hope you would allay the same;
Thrice I have wash'd but feel no cold,
Nor find that true which was foretold.
Methinks, like mine, your pulses beat
And labour with unequal heat;
Cure, cure yourselves, for I descry
Ye boil with love as well as I.
To Springs And Fountains
Robert Herrick
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Poem topics: I love you, feel, hope, cold, wash, true, labour, cool, love, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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