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      Thomas Carew (1594?-1640)


    Ask me no more where Jove bestowes,
    When June is past, the fading rose:
    For in your beauties orient deep,
    These Flowers as in their causes sleep.

    Ask me no more whither doe stray
    The golden Atomes of the day:
    For in pure love heaven did prepare
    Those powders to inrich your hair.

    Ask me no more whither doth hast
    The Nightingale, when May is past:
    For in your sweet dividing throat
    She winters, and keeps warm her note.

    Ask me no more where those starres light,
    That downwards fall in dead of night:
    For in your eyes they sit, and there,
    Fixèd, become as in their sphere.

    Ask me no more if East or West
    The Phenix builds her spicy nest:
    For unto you at last she flyes,
    And in your fragrant bosome dies.


The above poem can be found in:
  • Bloom, Harold, ed. The Best Poems of the English Language. New York: Harper Perenial, 2004.

    It is listed by Harmon as one of the hundred most anthologized poems of the English language:

  • Harmon, William, ed. The Classic Hundred Poems (Second Edition). New York: Columbia University Press, 1998.