Henry King, Bishop of Chichester

A Contemplation upon Flowers

BRAVE flowers—that I could gallant it like you,
            And be as little vain!
You come abroad, and make a harmless show,
            And to your beds of earth again.
You are not proud: you know your birth:
For your embroider'd garments are from earth.

You do obey your months and times, but I
            Would have it ever Spring:
My fate would know no Winter, never die,
            Nor think of such a thing.
O that I could my bed of earth but view
And smile, and look as cheerfully as you!

O 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.