LOVES ERRAND,
WALLER, l64o.
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Go, lovely Rose,
Tell her that wastes her time and mo,
That now she knows,
When resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Tell her that's young,
And shuns to have her graces spied,
That hadst thou sprung
In deserts where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died


Small is the worth
or beauty from the light retir'd,


Bid her come forth,
Suffer herselfto be desir'd,
And not blush 80 to be admir'd.


Then die, that she.
The common fate OF all things rare


May read in thee
How small part OF time they share
That are so wOndrOua sweet and fair