Hesperides, or, The works both humane & divine of Robert Herrick, Esq.

To the most fair and lovely Mistris, Anne Soame, now Lady Abdie.

SO smell those odours that do rise From out the wealthy spiceries: So smels the flowre of blooming Clove; Or Roses smother'd in the stove: So smells the Aire of spiced wine; Or Essences of Jessimine: So smells the Breath about the hives, When well the work of hony thrives; And all the busie Factours come Laden with wax and hony home: So smell those neat and woven Bowers, All over-archt with Oringe flowers, And Almond blossoms, that do mix To make rich these Aromatikes: So smell those bracelets, and those bands Of Amber chaf't between the hands, When thus enkindled they transpire A noble perfume from the fire.

The wine of cherries, and to these, The cooling breath of Respasses; The smell of mornings milk, and cream; Butter of Cowslips mixt with them; Of rosted warden, or bak'd peare, These are not to be reckon'd here; When as the meanest part of her, Smells like the maiden-Pomander. Thus sweet she smells, or what can be More lik'd by her, or lov'd by mee.