Upon the breeze I found thy perfumed breath, A living essence with every stir of space, Thy beauty wrapped in petals, wrought in death, Called forth in every light, spread thy grace.

Let not the fading petals lose their charm; Nor thistles wear their green, so fierce and bright, For in the morning dew, resides a balm, In nature lies both night and morning light.

• Robert Herrick