Classic Poem

So faire Aurora doth her selfe discover,
Asham'd o'th'aged bed of her cold lover,
In modest blushes, whilst the treacherous light
Betrayes her early shame to the worlds sight;
Such a bright colour doth the morning rose
Diffuse, when she her soft self doth disclose
Half drownd in dew, whilst on each leaf a tear
Of night doth like a dissolv'd pearl appear;
Yet 'twere in vain a colour out to seek
To parallel my Chariessa's cheek;
Lesse are conferr'd with greater, and these seem
To blush like her, not she to blush like them:
But whence (fair soul) this passion? what pretence
Had guilt to stain thy spotlesse innocence?
Those only this feel who have guilty bin,
Not any blushes know, but who know sin:
Then blush no more; but let thy chaster flame
That knows no cause, know no effects of shame.