Classic Poem

What stranger agony's this? ah fire!
Ah! lightning quickens my desire!
Must I fall tamely? a gilt Fly
Intrap an Eagle! cruel destiny!
Cease roving thoughts, and center there,
Where love is fix'd as in a sphere.
Would'st know why Morn doth blushing rise?
From yellow skin she day break spies.
The envious Moon looks pale to see
Her skin glance beams more bright then she.
While Heav'n embroidring stars admire
Her lustre twinkling, they retire.
Some glorious light is sure within,
Thus shines through th' Lanthorn of her skin.
Or is this Cupids yellow fire,
Since every glance inflames desire?
A sight could Icy Anchorets turn
To fire; and make ev'n ashes burn.

Sure 'tis some Phaenix , here must build a nest,
She hath both flame, and spices in her brest.