Cherry-lipped Adonis in his snowy shape, <br />Might not compare with his pure ivory white, <br />On whose fair front a poet's pen might write, <br />Whose rosiate red excels the crimson grape. <br />His love-enticing delicate soft limbs, <br />Are rarely framed t' intrap poor gazing eyes; <br />His cheeks, the lily and carnation dyes, <br />With lovely tincture which Apollo's dims. <br />His lips ripe strawberries in nectar wet, <br />His mouth a hive, his tongue a honeycomb, <br />Where muses (like bees) make their mansion. <br />His teeth pure pearl in blushing coral set. <br />Oh how can such a body sin-procuring, <br />Be slow to love, and quick to hate, enduring?<br /><br />Richard Barnfield<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cherry-lipped-adonis/
