And the imperial votaress passed on,

In maiden meditation, fancy-free.

Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell:

It fell upon a little western flower,

Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,

And maidens call it love-in-idleness.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen;

Here's to the widow of fifty;

Here's to the flaunting, extravagant quean,

And here's to the housewife that's thrifty!

Let the toast pass;

Drink to the lass;

I 'll warrant she 'll prove an excuse for the glass.

Richard Brinsley Sheridan (1751-1816): School for Scandal. Act iii. Sc. 3.

Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 3.

But 'neath yon crimson tree

Lover to listening maid might breathe his flame,

Nor mark, within its roseate canopy,

Her blush of maiden shame.

William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878): Autumn Woods.

Fall on me like a silent dew,

Or like those maiden showers

Which, by the peep of day, do strew

A baptism o'er the flowers.

Robert Herrick (1591-1674): To Music, to becalm his Fever.