If spicy-fringed pinks that blush and pale <br /> With passions of perfume, -- if violets blue <br /> That hint of heaven with odor more than hue, -- <br />If perfect roses, each a holy Grail <br />Wherefrom the blood of beauty doth exhale <br /> Grave raptures round, -- if leaves of green as new <br /> As those fresh chaplets wove in dawn and dew <br />By Emily when down the Athenian vale <br />She paced, to do observance to the May, <br /> Nor dreamed of Arcite nor of Palamon, -- <br />If fruits that riped in some more riotous play <br /> Of wind and beam that stirs our temperate sun, -- <br /> If these the products be of love and pain, <br /> Oft may I suffer, and you love, again.<br /><br />Sidney Lanier<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-my-class-on-certain-fruits-and-flowers-sent-m/