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Pocula Castalia

The Authors Motto. Fortunes Tennis-Ball. Eliza. Poems. Epigrams. &c. By R. B. [i.e Robert Baron]
  

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Upon a Black patch on Eliza's cheek, cut in the form of an Heart.

VVhat's this, that holds that happy place
Her Cheek? and to requite such grace
Serves for a foyle unto her face?
Such Mole, the Queen hot Hearts obay,
Such Spots she beares that makes Night Day,
Such Tho[illeg.]e of Love wore Helena.
At distance, like a Cloud it showes
I'th' Skie when Morn doth first disclose,
Or like a Fly upon a Rose.

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Near, tis an Heart, which being so nigh
The Torrid Zone of her bright eye,
Is scorch'd into the Negro's die.
I guest it some poor Heart, which late
Died th'Martyr of her Love and Hate,
Now Mourner turn'd for its sad fate.
And for Reward of Loyalty
Made by some pittying Destinie
A mourning Star in Beauties skie.
Strait on my Breast my Hand was thrown,
From whence I found my Heart was flown,
And thought to claime this for mine own.
But mine flames bright like Juniper,
A Turtle Sacrifice to her,
Not turn'd a coal by black Despair.
Yet lively this doth Typifie
My State me thought, if January
Should keep her Heart as Iune her eye.
But since my Heart will be her Guest,
May it not be shut out, but rest
For ay i'th' Paradise of her Breast.