Sweet Bridget blush'd, and therewithal
Fresh blossoms from her cheeks did fall.
I thought at first 'twas but a dream,
Till after I had handled them
And smelt them, then they smelt to me
As blossoms of the almond tree.
Upon His Kinswoman, Mistress Bridget Herrick
Robert Herrick
(1)
Poem topics: dream, tree, fresh, sweet, thought, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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