Classic Poem

Tyrian dye why do you wear,
You whose cheeks best scarlet are?
— Why do you fondly pin
— Pure linens o'er your skin
— (Your skin that 's whiter far),
Casting a dusky cloud before a star?

Why bears your neck a golden chain?
Did Nature make your hair in vain
— Of gold most pure and fine?
— With gems why do you shine?
— They, neighbours to your eyes,
Show but like Phosphor when the sun doth rise.

I would have all my mistress' parts
Owe more to Nature than to arts;
— I would not woo the dress,
— Or one whose nights give less
— Contentment than the day;
She 's fair whose beauty only makes her gay.

For 'tis not buildings make a court,
Or pomp, but 'tis the King's resort:
— If Jupiter down pour
— Himself, and in a shower
— Hide such bright majesty,
Less than a golden one it cannot be.

Tyrian dye why do you wear,
You whose cheeks best scarlet are?
— Why do you fondly pin
— Pure linens o'er your skin
— (Your skin that 's whiter far),
Casting a dusky cloud before a star?

Why bears your neck a golden chain?
Did Nature make your hair in vain
— Of gold most pure and fine?
— With gems why do you shine?
— They, neighbours to your eyes,
Show but like Phosphor when the sun doth rise.

I would have all my mistress' parts
Owe more to Nature than to arts;
— I would not woo the dress,
— Or one whose nights give less
— Contentment than the day;
She 's fair whose beauty only makes her gay.

For 'tis not buildings make a court,
Or pomp, but 'tis the King's resort:
— If Jupiter down pour
— Himself, and in a shower
— Hide such bright majesty,
Less than a golden one it cannot be.