To A Fair Lady, Playing With Snake
Strange! that such horror and such grace Should dwell together in one place; A fury's arm, an angel's face! 'Tis innocence, and youth, which makes In Chloris' fancy such mistakes, To start at love, and play with snakes. By this and by her coldness barr'd, Her servants have a task too hard; The tyrant has a double guard! Thrice happy snake! that in her sleeve May boldly creep; we dare not give Our thoughts so unconfined a leave. Contented in that nest of snow He lies, as he his bliss did know, And to the wood no more would go. Take heed, fair Eve! you do not make Another tempter of this snake; A marble one so warm'd would speak.