ASK me no more where Jove bestows, <br />When June is past, the fading rose; <br />For in your beauty's orient deep <br />These flowers, as in their causes, sleep. <br /> <br />Ask me no more whither do stray <br />The golden atoms of the day; <br />For in pure love heaven did prepare <br />Those powders to enrich your hair. <br /> <br />Ask me no more whither doth haste <br />The nightingale when May is past; <br />For in your sweet dividing throat <br />She winters and keeps warm her note. <br /> <br />Ask me no more where those stars 'light <br />That downwards fall in dead of night; <br />For in your eyes they sit, and there <br />Fixed become as in their sphere. <br /> <br />Ask me no more if east or west <br />The Phoenix builds her spicy nest; <br />For unto you at last she flies, <br />And in your fragrant bosom dies.<br /><br />Thomas Carew<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-62/
