To Mistress Pyrrha I
By Eugene Field
What perfumed, posie-dizened sirrah, With smiles for diet, Clasps you, O fair but faithless Pyrrha, On the quiet? For whom do you bind up your tresses, As spun-gold yellow,-- Meshes that go with your caresses, To snare a fellow? How will he rail at fate capricious, And curse you duly, Yet now he deems your wiles delicious,-- You perfect, truly! Pyrrha, your love's a treacherous ocean; He'll soon fall in there! Then shall I gloat on his commotion, For I have been there!
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"What perfumed, posie-dizened sirrah,..."
Eugene Field's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "To Mistress Pyrrha I"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...