Classic Poem

Gaze not on swans, in whose soft breast
A full-hatched beauty seems to nest,
Nor snow, which falling from the sky,
Hovers in its virginity.

Gaze not on roses, though new-blown,
Graced with a fresh complexion,
Nor lilies, which no subtle bee
Hatch robbed by kissing-chemistry.

Gaze not on that pure Milky Way,
Where night vies splendour with the day,
Nor pearl, whose silver walls confine
The riches of an Indian mine.

For if my Emperess appears,
Swans moulting die, snow melts to tears,
Roses do blush and hang their heads,
Pale lilies shrink into their beds,

The Milky Way rides post to shroud
Its baffled glories in a cloud,
And pearls do climb into her ear,
To hang themselves for envy there.

So have I seen stars big with light
Prove lanterns to the moon-eyed night,
Which when Sol's rays were once displayed,
Sunk in their sockets, and decayed.