 | Small poems of Divers sorts |  |
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47. Of Delia.
Talking with Delia I did perceiveA natural Perfume in her fragrant breath;
And could not choose but gather many a kiss
From her sweet lips, Portcullisies of bliss.
Like a Chamelion I could live, and spare
All other things to feed upon that air.
| Small poems of Divers sorts | |