Classic Poem

T H e Suns fond child when he arriu'd into
The fights inueigling palace of his sire,
Incens'd with a praeposterous desire,
Would needs to guide his fathers cart step to,
So fondly I once, entering (alasse)
Her chamber who bereaues not eyes, but soules,
And whiles my bold approach there's none controules,
I needs would venture to behold her face,
But as Appolloes child more rash then wise,
Did manage those fierce steeds with skillesse Art,
They like a fire-brand flang him from the skies:
Thus while I ey'd her, beauty fier'd my heart:
Only this difference rests betwixt vs two,
I ceaslesse burne, his flames were quencht in Po .