The bear that breathes the northern blast <br />Did numb, torpedo-like, a wasp <br />Whose stiffened limbs encramped, lay bathing <br />In Sol's warm breath and shine as saving, <br />Which with her hands she chafes and stands <br />Rubbing her legs, shanks, thighs, and hands. <br />Her pretty toes, and fingers' ends <br />Nipped with this breath, she out extends <br />Unto the sun, in great desire <br />To warm her digits at that fire. <br />Doth hold her temples in this state <br />Where pulse doth beat, and head doth ache. <br />Doth turn, and stretch her body small, <br />Doth comb her velvet capital. <br />As if her little brain pan were <br />A volume of choice precepts clear. <br />As if her satin jacket hot <br />Contained apothecary's shop <br />Of nature's receipts, that prevails <br />To remedy all her sad ails, <br />As if her velvet helmet high <br />Did turret rationality. <br />She fans her wing up to the wind <br />As if her pettycoat were lined, <br />With reason's fleece, and hoists sails <br />And humming flies in thankful gales <br />Unto her dun curled palace hall <br />Her warm thanks offering for all. <br /> <br /> Lord, clear my misted sight that I <br />May hence view Thy divinity, <br />Some sparks whereof thou up dost hasp <br />Within this little downy wasp <br />In whose small corporation we <br />A school and a schoolmaster see, <br />Where we may learn, and easily find <br />A nimble spirit bravely mind <br />Her work in every limb: and lace <br />It up neat with a vital grace, <br />Acting each part though ne'er so small <br />Here of this fustian animal. <br />Till I enravished climb into <br />The Godhead on this ladder do, <br />Where all my pipes inspired upraise <br />An heavenly music furred with praise.<br /><br />Edward Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/upon-a-wasp-chilled-with-cold/
