Five Songs, Op. 24: 3. Go, Lovely Rose

Go, lovely rose, tell her that wastes her time and me

That now she knows when I resemble her to thee

How sweet and fair she seems to be

Tell her that's young, and chans to have her graces spied

That hadst thou sprung in deserts where no man abide

Thou must have uncommended died

Small is the worth of beauty from the light retired

Bid her come forth, suffer herself to be desired

And not blush so to be admired

Then die, that she the common fate of all things rare

May read in thee

How small, how small a part of time they share

That are so wondrous sweet and fair