1When fair Aurora
, dressed with radiant light, 2Had triumphed o’er the gloomy shades of night
— 3When she her virgin beauty
first discloses
, 4Her dewy curls stuck full of half-blown
roses, 5Lapped in a robe of silver mixed with gray,
6Which did prognosticate
a glorious day– 7Out flew the active Amazonian maid
. 8The hills and dales not only she surveyed,
9But out of every gold-enamelled cup
10Her morning’s draft
of nectar she did sup. 11Nay, where the toad and spider poisons found,
12Mell
she extracts; for this her wisdom’s
crowned. 13On nightshade, henbane, hellish aconite,
14On opium, hemlock she doth safely light
. 15Thus being with choice extractions
loaded well, 16She turned to fly to her sexangular cell
. 17But taking of
my garden
in her way, 18Though full before, she could not choose but stay
19To see the curious
auriculas
dressed 20More variously than Iris’s
dewy breast. 21Then were my tulips painted
in their pride, 22Which, when this covetous
insect espied, 23To carry home her wealth she’d not the power
24Till she had searched the sweets of every flower.
25The sun, from whom all influence receives,
26Bid them
decline; the tulip closed her leaves, 27And in that painted prison shut the bee.
28With her a snail
, who slid about to see 29Where to get out upon her unctuous
breast; 30But seeing no hope, she laid her down to rest,
31Whilst the angry bee did
such a flutt’ring keep, 32She nor her fellow pris’ner could not sleep.
33But night being past, Delia
diffused
his rays; 34The tulip then her gilded
leaves displays. 35Out slid the snail; the bee did fainting lie,
36And thus with beating of herself did die.
37Then let impatient spirits here but see
38What ’tis to struggle with their destiny
. 39So stout
Biron
in prison was enraged, 40Knowing his king was to his sword engaged.
41When Belisarius
by a dog was led, 42Being blind, he patiently did beg his bread.
43So miscre’nt
Bajazeth
did show his rage 44When that proud Tartar put him in a cage;
45Scorning to be a footstool to his pride,
46He dashed his curséd brains about and died.
47When wise Callisthenes
, used with greater scorn, 48Tyrannically mangled, so was borne,
49He, being unmoved, showed his philosophy:
50’Tis valianter by far to live than die
. 51Then if no hope of liberty you see,
52Think on the snail, the tulip, and the bee
.