Poems | ||
57
PHŒBE.
Fair, fickle Phœbe fired my heart,
And up sprung conflagration dire!
Red Jealousy was hatched, and screamed,
And flapped her wings and fanned the fire:
And up sprung conflagration dire!
Red Jealousy was hatched, and screamed,
And flapped her wings and fanned the fire:
It burned so long!—it burned so strong!
I thought whole seas had failed to drench it;
Cool, with a cackle, rose Contempt—
She spat upon the flame and quenched it!
I thought whole seas had failed to drench it;
Cool, with a cackle, rose Contempt—
She spat upon the flame and quenched it!
Poems | ||