Classic Poem

SONG

Come , Celia, fix thine eyes on mine,
 And through those crystals our souls flitting
Shall a pure wreath of eye-beams twine,
 Our loving hearts together knitting.
Let eaglets the bright sun survey,
Though the blind mole discern not day.

When clear Aurora leaves her mate,
 The light of her grey eyes despising,
Yet all the world doth celebrate
 With sacrifice her fair up-rising.
Let eaglets the bright sun survey,
Though the blind mole discern not day.

A dragon kept the golden fruit,
 Yet he those dainties never tasted;
As others pined in the pursuit,
 So he himself with plenty wasted.
Let eaglets the bright sun survey,
Though the blind mole discern not day.