Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise; My footstool earth, my canopy the skies.
A naked lover bound and bleeding lies!
Is it, in heav'n, a crime to love too well?
Whoe'er he be That tells my faults, I hate him mortally.
The flower's are gone when the Fruits appear to ripen.
Aurora now, fair daughter of the dawn, Sprinkled with rosy light the dewy lawn.