A golden Flie one shew'd to me Clos'd in a Box of Yvorie: Where both seem'd proud; the Flie to have His buriall in an yvory grave: The yvorie tooke State to hold A Corps as bright as burnisht gold. One Fate had both; both equall Grace; The Buried, and the Burying-place. Not Virgils Gnat, to whom the Spring All Flowers sent to'is burying. Not Marshals Bee, which in a Bead Of Amber quick was buried. Nor that fine Worme that do's interre Her self i'th' silken Sepulchre. Nor my rare Phil, that lately was With Lillies Tomb'd up in a Glasse; More honour had, then this same Flie; Dead, and closed up in Yvorie. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ENVOYS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON A MARLOW MADRIGAL by JOSEPH ASHBY-STERRY QUATORZAINS: 2. THOUGHTS by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES A SUPERSTITION REVISITED by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE YELLOWHAMMER by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |