By Robert Herrick
WELCOME, maids of honour!
You do bring
In the spring,
And wait upon her.
She has virgins many,
Fresh and fair;
Yet you are
More sweet than any.
You’re the maiden posies,
And so graced
To be placed
’Fore damask roses.
Yet, though thus respected,
By-and-by
Ye do lie,
Poor girls, neglected.