Julia, I bring <br />To thee this Ring. <br />Made for thy finger fit; <br />To shew by this, <br />That our love is <br />(Or sho'd be) like to it. <br /> <br />Close though it be, <br />The joynt is free: <br />So when Love's yoke is on, <br />It must not gall, <br />Or fret at all <br />With hard oppression. <br /> <br />But it must play <br />Still either way; <br />And be, too, such a yoke, <br />As not too wide, <br />To over-slide; <br />Or be so strait to choak. <br /> <br />So we, who beare, <br />The beame, must reare <br />Our selves to such a height: <br />As that the stay <br />Of either may <br />Create the burden light. <br /> <br />And as this round <br />Is no where found <br />To flaw, or else to sever: <br />So let our love <br />As endless prove; <br />And pure as Gold for ever.<br /><br />Robert Herrick<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-ring-presented-to-julia/
