The Primrose

Being at Montgomery Castle upon the Hill, on Which It Is Situate

UPON this Primrose hill,

Where, if heaven would distil

A shower of rain, each several drop might go

To his own primrose, and grow manna so;

And where their form, and their infinity

Make a terrestrial galaxy,

As the small stars do in the sky;

I walk to find a true love; and I see

That ’tis not a mere woman, that is she,

But must or more or less than woman be.

Yet know I not, which flower

I wish; a six, or four;

For should my true-love less than woman be,

She were scarce anything; and then, should she

Be more than woman, she would get above

All thought of sex, and think to move

My heart to study her, and not to love.

Both these were monsters; since there must reside

Falsehood in woman, I could more abide,

She were by art, than nature falsified.

Live, primrose, then, and thrive

With thy true number five;

And, woman, whom this flower doth represent,

With this mysterious number be content;

Ten is the farthest number; if half ten

Belongs unto each woman, then

Each woman may take half us men;

Or—if this will not serve their turn—since all

Numbers are odd, or even, and they fall

First into five, women may take us all.