The Vision

Sitting alone, as one forsook,Close by a silver-shedding brook,With hands held up to love, I wept;And after sorrows spent I slept:Then in a vision I did seeA glorious form appear to me:A virgin's face she had; her dressWas like a sprightly Spartaness.A silver bow, with green silk strung,Down from her comely shoulders hung:And as she stood, the wanton airDangled the ringlets of her hair.

Her legs were such Diana showsWhen, tucked up, she a-hunting goes;With buskins shortened to descryThe happy dawning of her thigh:Which when I saw, I made accessTo kiss that tempting nakedness:But she forbade me with a wandOf myrtle she had in her hand:And, chiding me, said: Hence, remove,Herrick, thou art too coarse to love.