 | Poems |  |
57
LINES TO SACCHARISSA, WITH A SUGAR VASE.
Ah, would, thou humble shrine for sweets,
Thou didst some soft nepenthe bear,
To moderate our passion's heats,
And sweeten every earthly care!
Thou didst some soft nepenthe bear,
To moderate our passion's heats,
And sweeten every earthly care!
Or, would that in thy bosom I
Could every sweet of life convey;
How swiftly then thy form should fly
To her, who stole my heart away.
Could every sweet of life convey;
How swiftly then thy form should fly
To her, who stole my heart away.
But, simple, empty as thou art,
Borne by my ceaseless sighs, take wing;
She'll plenteous sweets to thee impart,
Who gives a sweet to every thing.
Borne by my ceaseless sighs, take wing;
She'll plenteous sweets to thee impart,
Who gives a sweet to every thing.
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