This peach is pink with such a pink br As suits the peach divinely; br The cunning colour rarely spread br Fades to the yellow finely; br But where to spy the truest pink br Is in my Love's soft cheek, I think. br br The snowdrop, child of windy March, br Doth glory in her whiteness; br Her golden neighbours, crocuses, br Unenvious praise her brightness! br But I do know where, out of sight, br My sweetheart keeps a warmer white.