Diary of the Plague Year: Day 47 1 May 2020: Quotidian Poetry: Eight Metaphysical Poets Henry King (1592-1669)

Brave flowers, that I could gallant it like you
And be as little vaine,
You come abroad, and make a harmelesse shew,
And to your beds of Earthe againe:
You are not proud, you know your birth
For your Embroidered garments are from Earth:
You doe obey your months, and times, but I
Would have it ever spring,
My fate would know no winter, never die
Nor thinke of such a thing;
Oh that I could my bed of Earthe but view
And Smile, and looke as Chearefully as you:
Oh teach me to see Death, and not to fear
But rather to take truce;
How often have I seen you at a Bier,
And there look fresh and spruce;
You fragrant flowers, then teach me that my breath
Like yours may sweeten, and perfume my Death.