Abraham Cowley

Nature's self's thy Ganymede.

Nature's self's thy Ganymede.

Stones of small worth may lie unseen by day,
But night itself does the rich gem betray.

Stones of small worth may lie unseen by day,
But night itself does the rich gem betray.

Happy insect! what can be
In happiness compared to thee?
Fed with nourishment divine,
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Happy insect! what can be
In happiness compared to thee?
Fed with nourishment divine,
The dewy morning's gentle wine!
Nature waits upon thee still,
And thy verdant cup does fill;
'Tis fill'd wherever thou dost tread,
Nature's self's thy Ganymede.

We griev'd, we sigh'd, we wept; we never blushed before.

We griev'd, we sigh'd, we wept; we never blushed before.

What shall I do to be forever known,
And make the age to come my own?

What shall I do to be forever known,
And make the age to come my own?