| Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 12501900. |
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| William Browne, of Tavistock. 15881643 |
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| 240. A Welcome |
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| WELCOME, welcome! do I sing, | |
| Far more welcome than the spring; | |
| He that parteth from you never | |
| Shall enjoy a spring for ever. | |
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| He that to the voice is near | 5 |
| Breaking from your iv'ry pale, | |
| Need not walk abroad to hear | |
| The delightful nightingale. | |
| Welcome, welcome, then... | |
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| He that looks still on your eyes, | 10 |
| Though the winter have begun | |
| To benumb our arteries, | |
| Shall not want the summer's sun. | |
| Welcome, welcome, then... | |
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| He that still may see your cheeks, | 15 |
| Where all rareness still reposes, | |
| Is a fool if e'er he seeks | |
| Other lilies, other roses. | |
| Welcome, welcome, then... | |
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| He to whom your soft lip yields, | 20 |
| And perceives your breath in kissing, | |
| All the odours of the fields | |
| Never, never shall be missing. | |
| Welcome, welcome, then... | |
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| He that question would anew | 25 |
| What fair Eden was of old, | |
| Let him rightly study you, | |
| And a brief of that behold. | |
| Welcome, welcome, then... | |
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