fair Aurora, dressed with radiant light,
Had triumphed o’er the gloomy shades of
When she her
virgin beauty first
Her dewy curls stuck full of
Lapped in a robe of silver mixed with gray,
prognosticate a glorious day–
Out flew the
active Amazonian maid.
The hills and dales not only she surveyed,
But out of every
draft of nectar she did sup.
Nay, where the toad and spider poisons found,
Mell she extracts; for this
her wisdom’s crowned.
On nightshade, henbane, hellish aconite,
On opium, hemlock she doth
Thus being with
choice extractions loaded well,
She turned to fly to her
my garden in her way,
Though full before, she could not choose but stay
To see the
More variously than
Iris’s dewy breast.
Then were my
tulips painted in their pride,
Which, when this
covetous insect espied,
To carry home her wealth she’d not the power
Till she had searched the sweets of every flower.
The sun, from whom all influence receives,
them decline; the tulip closed her leaves,
And in that painted prison shut the bee.
With her a
snail, who slid about to see
Where to get out upon her
But seeing no hope, she laid her down to rest,
Whilst the angry bee
did such a flutt’ring keep,
She nor her fellow pris’ner could not sleep.
But night being past,
diffused his rays;
The tulip then her
gilded leaves displays.
Out slid the snail; the bee did fainting lie,
And thus with beating of herself did die.
Then let impatient spirits here but see
What ’tis to struggle with their destiny.
Biron in prison was enraged,
Knowing his king was to his sword engaged.
Belisarius by a dog was led,
Being blind, he patiently did beg his bread.
Bajazeth did show his rage
When that proud Tartar put him in a cage;
Scorning to be a footstool to his pride,
He dashed his curséd brains about and died.
Callisthenes, used with greater scorn,
Tyrannically mangled, so was borne,
He, being unmoved, showed his philosophy:
’Tis valianter by far to live than die.
Then if no hope of liberty you see,
Think on the snail, the tulip, and the bee.