Poem Virtue written by George Herbert

 

POEM

 

Virtue

By George Herbert

 

 

Sweet days, so cool, so calm, so bright,

The bridal of the earth and sky:

The dew shall weep they fall tonight;

For thou must die.

Sweet rose,whose hue angry and brave,

Bids the rash gazer wipe his eyes:

Thy root is ever in its grave,

And thou must die.

Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,

A box where sweets compacted lie;

My music shows ye have your closes,

And all must die.

Only a sweet and virtuous soul,

Like seasoned timber, never gives;

But though the whole world turn to coal,

The chiefly lives.

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