Classic Poem

A sonnet upon a pretty Gierl her mothers darling 16. compleat by the Easter book

Ripe now for man
Why dost deny
Thy plump age full satiety
When neither time nor season can
By a return convaigh
Thy Roses to thee being once falln away

Suns sett and rise
Woods may renew
The pleasures of their summer-hue
But if once thy fair cheeks and eyes
Sink and turn pale the dumb
Though speachless yet will signe that winter's come

Quake not through fear
Like to the Alpe
Whilst I desier thy limms to grasp
I am noe Lion nor fierce bear
But quit thy mothers wing
And by my grouth thou shalt conclude it spring.