 | Virginalia ; or, songs of my summer nights |  |
PERIA PERSICA.
Thy lips are Beauty's Ruby Mines,Sweeter far than Eglantines;
Conserve of roses mixed with cream,
Bliss of which the Gods might dream;
The laughing rose-bud of the heart,
Love's tropic sun doth now dispart.
A kiss from those sweet lips of thine,
Intoxicates the soul like wine—
Sweeter, in the dews of speech,
Than the nectar of the peach.
Thy mouth is like the Signet on
The Jeweled-Ring of Solomon—
Where Cherub, soft persuasion lies,
Like Eve embowered in Paradise;
A Casket full of pearly Gems
Kept pure for Venus' Diadems;
A fountain from whose sweetness springs
All the joys the Poet sings—
Whose Syren tongue, with artless art,
Was the sweet thief that stole my heart.
| Virginalia ; or, songs of my summer nights | |