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 see
A glorious form appear to me:
A virgin's face she had; her dress
Was like a spritely Spartaness.
A silver bow with green silk strung
Down from her comely shoulders hung;
And, as she stood, the wanton air
Dandled the ringlets of her hair.
Her legs were such Diana shows
When, tucked up, she hunting goes
With buskins shortened to descry
The happy dawning of her thigh.
Which, when I saw, I made access
To kiss that tempting nakedness —
But she forbade me with a wand
Of myrtle she had in her hand
And, chiding me, said: 'Hence remove,
Herrick; thou art too coarse to love.