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Dull as I was, to think that a court fly Presumed so near her eye, When 'twas th' industrious bee Mistook her glorious face for paradise; To sum up all his chemistry of spice, With a brave pride and honor led, Near both her suns he makes his bed, And though a spark struggles to rise as red; Then emulates the gay Daughter of day, Acts the romantic phoenix' fate; When now, with all his sweets laid out in state, Lucasta scatters but one heat, And all the aromatic pills do sweat, And gums calcined, themselves to powder beat; Which a fresh gale of air Conveys into her hair; Then chaste he's set on fire, And in these holy flames doth glad expire; And that black marble tablet there So near her either sphere Was placed; nor foil, nor ornament, But the sweet little bee's large monument. (1659) |
Created by Anniina Jokinen on January 16, 1997.