Classic Poem

That lovely spot, which thou dost see
In Celia's bosom, was a bee
Who built her amorous spicy nest
In th' Hyblas of her either breast.
But from close ivory hives she flew
To suck the aromatic dew,
Which from the neighbour vale distils,
Which parts those two twin-sister hills.
There feasting on ambrosial meat,
A rolling file of balmy sweat
(As in soft murmurs before death
Swan-like she sung), choked up her breath:
So she in water did expire,
More precious than the Phœnix fire.
Yet still her shadow there remains,
Confined to those Elysian plains,
With this strict law, that who shall lay
His bold lips on that milky way,
The sweet and smart from thence shall bring
Of the bee's honey and her sting.