As late each flower that sweetest blows I pluck'd, the Garden's pride! Within the petals of a Rose A sleeping Love I 'spied. Around his brows a beamy wreath Of many a lucent hue; All purple glow'd his cheek, beneath, Inebriate with the dew. I softly seiz'd th' unguarded Power, Nor scar'd his balmy rest: And plac'd him, cag'd within the flower, On spotless Sara's breast. But when unweeting of the guile Awoke the pris'ner sweet, He struggled to escape awhile And stamp'd his faery feet. Ah! soon the soul entrancing sight Subdued th' impatient boy! He gaz'd! he thrill'd with deep delight! Then clapp'd his wings for joy. 'And O!' he cried -- 'Of magic kind What charms this Throne endear! Some other Love let Venus find I'll fix my empire here.'
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