Before the dawn I go to toil <br />for Pretties slowly grow in soil, <br />yet vanity will spread as tree <br />with green-eyed maidens: one, two, three.... <br /> <br />At night, each downcast as a leaf <br />or dew drop, gem-like, in its grief. <br />Maids have their grounds, as moles may see. <br />I count them crying: one, two, three.... <br /> <br /> <br />Light breaks- a trellis on the sky, <br />and maids will break and laurelled, lie. <br />Such blooms must fall- not one, two, three... <br />but ones should sum infinity! <br /> <br />Required size of my estate <br />is, weed-like, growing vastly great: <br /> please lend Eden-veggies trade in- <br />beds to lay each ripened maiden.<br /><br />Glenn Bagshaw<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/herrick-reckons-how-large-his-garden-need-grow/
