The Primrose, Being at Montgomery Castle, Upon the Hill, on Which It Is Situate

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⁠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 to 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.

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