John Fletcher (1579–1625)

NOW the lusty spring is seen;

Golden yellow, gaudy blue,

Daintily invite the view:

Everywhere on every green

Roses blushing as they blow,

And enticing men to pull,

Lilies whiter than the snow,

Woodbines of sweet honey full:

All love’s emblems, and all cry,

“Ladies, if not plucked, we die.”

Yet the lusty spring hath stay’d;

Blushing red and purest white

Daintily to love invite

Every woman, every maid:

Cherries kissing as they grow,

And inviting men to taste,

Apples even ripe below,

Winding gently to the waist:

All love’s emblems, and all cry,

“Ladies, if not plucked, we die.”