----- <br />The seasons in their way present <br />a kind of moving monument <br />to fleet decay. They've been before: <br />blurred hinge of 'in' and 'out' time's door; <br />the twirl and swirl; the twinkled blink; <br />the flashed and frenzed whirl of wink. <br /> <br />But blooms of Herrick still remain. <br />His ladies sway in sun and rain. <br /> <br />His garden's far beyond mere time <br />where flows his shoots of vining rhyme. <br />He knows: our sense of 'rake' and 'hoe', <br />what withers quick, what's slow to grow, <br />and so he grins, guffaws-there's sound! <br />His ladies chortle underground. <br /> <br />So blooms of Herrick still remain. <br />His ladies sway in sun and rain. <br />All lives, as rain falls, pulse again.<br /><br />Glenn Bagshaw<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/herrick-a-lyric-of-tribute/
