 | Poems |  |
63
A flye that flew into my Mistris her eye.
When this Flye liv'd, she us'd to playIn the Sun-shine all the day;
Till comming neere my Celia's sight,
She found a new, and unknowne light
So full of glory, as it made
The noone-day Sun a gloomy shade;
Then this amorous Flye became
My rivall, and did court my flame.
She did from hand to bosome skip,
And from her breath, her cheeke, and lip,
Suckt all the incense, and the spice,
And grew a bird of Paradise:
At last into her eye she flew,
There scorcht in flames, and drown'd in dew:
Like Phaeton from the Suns spheare
She fell, and with her dropt a teare:
Of which a pearle was straight compos'd,
Wherein her ashes lye enclos'd.
Thus she receiv'd from Celia's eye,
Funerall flame, tombe Obsequie.
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