THOSE, Cynthia, that do taste the honey-dew Of thy moist rosy lips (who are but few), Or sucketh vapour of thy breath more sweet Than honeysuckle's juice, they all agree't To be Madeira's sugar's quintessence, Or some diviner syrup brought from thence. And for the operation, they believe, It hath a quality provocative: For Venus in the sugar's propagation Is said to have a sovereign domination: But I must not think so, for I have read Of an extracted sugar out of lead, Of which I once did taste, which chemists call Sugar of Saturn, for they therewithal Cure all venereal heats, for it doth hold A winter in it like that Planet's cold, And though 't be strangely sweet, yet doth it quench All courage towards a mistress or a wench. Such must I think thy sweetness for to be, By that experience that is found in me: For he that shall those sweets of thine but taste, Shall like thyself become, as cold, as chaste: For like the mildew new fallen from the sky, Though dropt from Heaven, yet doth it mortify. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SUNFLOWER, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE SONNET: 18. ON THE LATE MASSACRE IN PIEDMONT by JOHN MILTON LITTLE JESUS by FRANCIS THOMPSON THE LAMENTATION OF THE OLD PENSIONER (1) by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THESEUS, SELECTION by BACCHYLIDES |